My name was Victor.
I can’t say my life was the worst in the world, but it wasn’t good either.
I never knew my father.
I don’t know if he died in the war, if he abandoned my mother, or if he simply disappeared.
The truth is, I never asked.
My mother never spoke of him either.
We were poor.
So poor that some nights we went to bed hungry.
Even so, my mother always found a way to put food on the table.
She worked herself to exhaustion so I could keep going.
I admired her.
And I hated her a little.
Because watching her slowly destroy herself while trying to keep us alive made me feel useless.
To make matters worse, our country was at war.
A senseless war.
A war where the powerful argued while the poor died.
When I turned seventeen, I was drafted.
They didn’t ask me if I wanted to go.
They gave me no choice.
They simply handed me a uniform, a rifle, and sent me to the front.
And so the years passed.
Day after day.
Month after month.
Year after year.
I saw friends die.
I saw cities burn.
I saw men turn into monsters to survive.
And I changed too.
By the time I turned twenty-five, I was no longer the young man who had left home.
I was a weary soldier.
Empty.
Without dreams.
Without a future.
Then I received the news.
My mother had died.
At first, I didn’t believe it.
For years, I had been told that part of my salary was sent to her.
I thought that at least she was living with some comfort.
But it was a lie.
It was all a lie.
The money never arrived.
Someone had stolen it.
While I fought and risked my life, my mother had been alone.
Working.
Suffering.
And finally dying.
That news destroyed me.
I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t accept that I hadn’t even been there to say goodbye.
And then it happened.
A whistling sound ripped through the air.
I realized it too late.
A missile.
It was coming straight for our position.
I wanted to move.
I wanted to run.
But my mind was still trapped by the news.
The explosion consumed everything.
Fire.
Noise.
Pain.
And as my body was being destroyed, a question appeared in my mind.
Why?
Why had I lived like this?
Why was I never in control of anything?
Why was I always weak?
Why did others decide my fate?
Then, for the first time in my life, I found an answer.
Because I had no power.
Because I was weak.
Because I couldn’t change anything.
And as darkness enveloped me, I uttered my final vow.
“Whether in death or in whatever life awaits me… I will become strong.”
My voice was barely a whisper.
“So strong… that I will never again look at death with fear.”
And then I died.
…
Or so I thought.
I opened my eyes.
A bright light blinded me for a moment.
I tried to move, but my body didn’t respond as I expected.
It felt small.
Too small.
I heard a woman’s voice.
Soft.
Loving.
When my vision finally focused, I saw the most beautiful face I had ever beheld.
A woman of extraordinary beauty gazed at me with a smile.
Her hair was golden like the sun.
Her eyes shone with an otherworldly light.
And to my utter shock, she had goat legs.
My mind froze.
I looked at my small hands.
Then I looked at her.
And then at my hands again.
Only one question crossed my mind.
Where the hell am I?
Dame piedras de poder o una donación en Kofi me ayudaría muchísimo