Cualli Tonalli!!!!!!!!
Mi first history in english.
Chapter 2
Arriving memories
Its strange how the sea can calm people down: its movement, its sound, its soft salty scent; but that man's spirit was uneasy, and not even the strongest of drugs would make him sleep.
Edmund Dantes had spent hours walking in the bow of the ship, waiting impatiently to see the port that would indicate he was in Marseille. He couldn't deny he felt greatly excited, but that feeling was blocked by the guilt and pain. He was unhappy, more than he'd been before!
During the journey, he hadn't stopped evaluating his life; over and over he observed the events that had took him to this place, and the damned he'd left behind. And now, he was shaking from head to toes, afraid of himself.
The sound of footsteps made him turn around; Ali approached with a tray of food in his hands and, after a respectful look towards Dantes, left the food in a place nearby and waited. Edmund sighed when he noticed he was trying to persuade him to eat again; with a nod he thanked the gesture and ordered the Arabic man to retreat, but he didn't move.
Sighing again, the Count turned again and continued walking through the ship, while biting his lip impatiently. How long would it take to arrive?
"Land!" exclaimed a voice to answer his question, the crew started moving around, preparing to disembark; he ran to the tip of his ship and, with eyes wide-open, watched in front of him as the port of Marseille appeared. His stomach filled with butterflies, and a lump in his throat prevented him from swallowing, but he lowered his eyes calmly, and whispered for himself this words:
"I'm back, only for you!"
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Over the sea, high above the rocks in which the waves hit, there was the huge viewpoint that showed Marseille's port; the place was so high that the wind blew furiously for anyone who stopped to watch.
The lonely silhouette of a woman watched the arriving ships of that clouded morning, and she remembered, sighing, that none of those ships would bring her beloved back.
"Soon…" she murmured with an indifferent tone, "… all this will be over"
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The same sounds, the same scents, all this place was exactly as he remembered. When he landed, a sincere happiness had taken over him. How deny the homesickness?
With his usual naturalness, he ordered the search for a room in an Inn and, saying no more, he left.
His feet carried him to known places: the streets where he ran as a kid in front of the house where he met that catalan girl; but he felt surprised when he found himself at the shore, where he could see that terrifying castle, which had deprived him of his freedom and youth.
His whole body shuddered while he remembered one by one the nights of torment: the taste of that poor food returned to his mouth, forcing him to convulse in disgust; the cold enveloped him as if he were inside those humid walls, and to his mind returned the name of "number 34"
He'd been just a child! He was 19 years old when he lost his soul entirely! Destroying the good and innocent young man to allow the birth of fatality!
The Count of Monte Cristo was someone vengeful, disguised, evil and impassive, capable of waiting more than two decades to fulfill a sublime vendetta, made with the most implacable hate and the most diabolical perfection.
"Horror for those I've found in my way!" said to himself, while clenching his fist with sorrow. "Is not that the choice I made?"
Turning his back to that horrifying construction, he continued his way while bitterness filled his soul. "Horror" he whispered again.
He walked unconsciously, and suddenly found himself watching that window in which his father welcomed him with the warmest of smiles, but the light was out and his little walk had made time go too quickly; now Marseille was covered in the silence of the night.
Whishing to see that woman of dark eyes, Edmund turned around and walked towards the inn where he hoped to rest. Tomorrow, the executioner would join the condemned to talk!
Continue….
Tlazohcamati huel miac!!!!