Universidad de Los Andes

Ncleo universitario Rafael Rangel

Departamento de lenguas modernas
Pampanito estado Trujillo

SHORT STORY

Jonathan Eduardo Caizalez

C.I: 25302214

Beauty is what the beholder wants.

I dont know why I am here; I really dont know! I just said the truth. Everything
started with that beautiful girl, that horrible night when she knocked the door. I was
living in The route 66 with my wife, in a comfortable house; when one night, a very
stormy night a little girl arrived, she was beautiful; blue eyes, brown hair and a
mysterious smile.
She was very wet when came, but she didnt say a word about anything, she
never said a word but, she was beautiful. I loved her like a daughter, and she loved
me. By nights she did weird sounds, that sounds scarred to my wife, I said to her
that she was dreaming, but my wife couldnt sleep hearing her.
Step by step my wifes angry grew up, she had circles under her eyes, because
she didnt sleep for the girls sounds.
The girl was every time with me, she was happy with me, I think. But sometimes,
my wife was far of us looking us, with rage. The days were passing and the girl
was more beautiful, but my wifes face was ugly, really ugly, and her eyes were
looking the girl every moment.
And then, the disaster occurred; I came from my work, when I came in to the
kitchen, I saw my wife without circles under her eyes, she was beautiful, shining
and singing, very happy, when I saw her, I knew that the girl was dead.
I ran to the police department, and I told them this story. When they arrived to my
house, my wife was not there. We searched in the house and found the girls body
buried in the yard, her eyes were not on her face, her face was kicked, she was not
beautiful anymore.
We went back to the police department, and the researches started. I said to them
my wifes name, and they were looking for her.
6 hours later the polices came to me, they asked me questions about my life, my
wife, about the girl, and I answered, they were suspecting of me. I didnt
understand anything, I loved the girl, I loved her beautiful face, I dont kill her.
They didnt believe me, and they said that my wife was dead 10 years ago, and
they said that the girl was my daughter, how it is possible? I dont have a daughter,
and if I have it, she couldnt be so beautiful.
So I am here now, in this mental hospital, narrating my story to crazy people, but I
am not crazy, I am sure about what happened that horrible night. I really dont
know why I am here.
I see that beautiful face; every night I see her. While my wife is getting old and ugly.