A Curvy Girl on My Hill

NARRATED BY LARISSA I got off the bus and started walking home. The sky was darkening, and the streetlights were beginning to turn on. I hurried, feeling a strange unease. When I turned to the last corner, I smelled smoke, making my heart race. I started to run desperately. When I reached the front of my house, I stopped suddenly. Orange and red flames were engulfing everything. The heat was intense, and the smoke rose high into the sky. "No! No!" I screamed, overwhelmed by despair. I tried to get closer, but the heat was too strong. Neighbors were outside, some trying to put out the fire with garden hoses, others just watching, not knowing what to do. I heard sirens in the distance, but I knew it would be too late. "My parents! Someone, help my parents!" I cried, filled with panic and pain. Dona Maria, a neighbor, ran to me and held me by the shoulders. "Larissa, you can't go there! It's too dangerous!" she said with tears in her eyes. I tried to break free, but Dona Maria held me firmly. The fire continued to destroy everything, and the hope of finding my parents safe was fading. I felt an enormous void, as if the fire was burning not just my house, but my entire world. Dona Maria pulled me away from the flames, hugging me tightly. I couldn't stop crying, my sobs were uncontrollable. Everything I knew was being destroyed right in front of me. The sirens grew louder, and within minutes, the firefighters arrived. They began to put out the fire, but I knew it was already too late. The house was almost destroyed. "Why is this happening?" I repeated, lost in pain. Dona Maria tried to console me, but I was in shock. I looked around, seeing the sadness and helplessness on the neighbors' faces. It was as if everyone was feeling my pain. The firefighters worked for hours, trying to control the flames. I watched, in disbelief, as they battled the fire while it consumed everything. Finally, one of the firemen approached me with a serious and sad look on his face. "Larissa, I'm sorry," he said, his voice low and heavy. "We found your parents, but they didn't survive." My mind went blank. I knew what he was saying, but my heart refused to believe it. I fell to my knees, feeling the ground disappear beneath me. Tears streamed down my face incessantly. "No. Please, no." I whispered, my voice failing. Dona Maria held me, trying to give me some comfort, but there was nothing that could ease the pain I felt. My world had completely fallen apart. I lost everything that night: my house, my parents, my life as I knew it. The firefighters continued working, but I couldn't look anymore. The reality was unbearable. Dona Maria took me to her house, where she offered me a warm tea and a blanket, but I just sat, staring into nothingness. "Thank you," I finally murmured, my voice hoarse from all the crying. She just nodded, understanding that words were insufficient at that moment. I knew my life would never be the same again. I lost my parents and my house, and now I needed to find a way to move forward, even though everything seemed impossible. In the days that followed, the pain of losing my parents did not diminish. Every corner of Mrs. Maria's house reminded me of what I had lost. I felt like a stranger, an intruder in a world that no longer made sense. The nights were the worst when the silence was filled only with my dark thoughts and the crushing absence of my parents. The feeling of having nowhere to go was terrifying. I felt alone, directionless. All I had were some clothes and the memories I carried with me. The idea that I would never hear my parents' voices again, never feel their embrace, was unbearable. ** One week later ** A week had passed since I lost my parents and, in truth, my life. I didn't go to school, answer my phone, feel hungry, or want anything. I just desired death so I could escape the pain that consumed me. Every moment felt like a deep void, an absence that shattered my heart. The world around me seemed gray and distant, and I was drowning in a sea of sadness and loneliness. People tried to comfort me, but their words and gestures felt distant and meaningless. Mrs. Maria's house, my temporary shelter, was a constant reminder of the life I had lost. Every object, every corner, carried memories of my parents. I couldn't escape the feeling that they were there, but at the same time, they were so far away. I withdrew from the outside world as if trying to shield myself from the unbearable pain. I couldn't handle the well-intentioned questions from people, the looks of pity, or any attempt to make me feel better. Nothing seemed to make sense without my parents by my side.