The Girl who was almost ready
The first few years of her life, she didn’t even know she existed. She hadn’t been born like the rest of the people she knew. Although to be fair, she didn’t really know that many people to begin with. She knew that her father was the person she saw the most. He had always been there for her and so had her father’s friends. She never left the house. She had been told that she still wasn’t ready for the world. When people came to visit, she would blush when she heard them say that it looked like she was improving. They never spoke to her, they always addressed her father. Every day he would kiss her good night and whisper that soon she would be ready to be outdoors, it was just a matter of time. He would always tell her that she was the best thing he had ever done. And before she knew it, the lights were off.
He was the first and last thing she saw every day. She never woke up in the middle of the night, she never rose unless he was there. She knew that there was something wrong with her because her torso and legs were always covered. The only thing she could see were her hands coming out of the holes of a blue wooden wall and only once, she managed to see her face in the reflection of a mirror. She liked what she saw and was eager for more. She always wanted to draw her arms in and feel her body just so she could be aware of her condition. But she didn’t want to disobey her father who had given her everything. And it seemed that he was always there in front of her.
One day, she was given a bag, the most beautiful bag she had ever seen. It contained bottles of cream and came all the way from Spain, a country she was looking forward to seeing. She wanted to roam its streets and learn the language. She automatically knew that what she had to do was to remove the bottled creams from the bag and then put them back in. She thought that one day she would apply them over her body as soon as it was fixed. She never understood why she had the feeling that she knew what to do at all times, as if instead of voluntary acts her movements were premeditated steps fulfilling the will of others. But she never dwelled upon it. It made her happy to satisfy them. Today had been a good day and she did what was expected from her. She could tell because her father’s kiss was longer than usual. Once again, the lights were off.
She opened her eyes abruptly and it was dark. Something was tickling her. She felt as if something was crawling up and down her body. She was alone. Never before had any of this happened. She was scared. Monotony had filled every day of her life and this moment of autonomy was a novelty for her. She didn’t want to upset her father but she knew that if she ever wanted to understand, now was the time. She was nervous. She saw the cuff of her sleeves slowly disappear through the holes. They stopped. What should she do? Her body tickled again and she let out an involuntary smile. She pulled her arms in and her face. She saw a mouse run away. She sighed and unbuttoned her shirt without looking down. She screamed. There was no body, just an intertwined mechanism that the furry little animal had accidently activated. She was an automaton following the orders of a father that wasn’t hers.
The Girl who was almost Ready (2015)
Photo: Carolina Iriarte
Text: Josephine A. M. Halpin
