It was scorching hot.
I never imagined four days of solid sun would have this effect on someone who spent 17 years of her life in Phoenix. Those months in Forks apparently had put too deep roots in my system as I initially shunned from the sun. Four days have not cured me of my love of the cold… yet.
Phil and Renee embraced the Brazilian sun immediately as they scampered to go around and make most of the daytime. During daytime, the three of us would go out and visit some of the local sites. I was silently thankful that Renee brought her camera since I already put mine out of commission. I didn't really have good memories with that one. We went to Casa de Benjamin Constant, and Casa Franca-Brasil already and have abused the camera to no end. Even the sidewalk grills and cafés, did not escape my frantic trigger-happy phase.
"Aw, mom!" I managed to call out as she made me pose on the tram, looking as if i was in a musical.
"Come on Bella! Don't be such a drag," she teased me as she made Phil take the picture, taking her place on the other side of the tram.
"You're not smiling Bella," laughed Phil, as he prepared the camera. I stuck my tongue out, just in time for the flash to come off. Giggling, I got off the tram with my mom frowning as she did a replay of the photo Phil had taken.
"Bella! You ruined a picture-perfect setting!" I laughed at my mom's exasperated look. It was like this for all the sites we've gone to for the past days. To be honest, I could actually get the hang of this.
Today, Renee finally dragged me out to spend some time by the hotel pool and get a "Brazilian tan." I giggled at the silly way she put it.
It took just one afternoon to get that 'glorious Brazilian tan'. I chuckled, suddenly liking some color on my skin. My room was right across mom and Phil's and was facing a view of the city. There were trees that framed this glorious view, making it seem like a cozy picture. Cozy? In this heat? I had to laugh at that thought.
I walked out to the balcony and smiled. It seemed like a perfect night for a walk in the city? The thought of getting lost in Rio suddenly excited me so I left a message in mom's room, slipped into a tank top and cargoes, and swung the camera bag around me. I had a good feeling about this.
Rio had much to offer than the buildings I initially found when I did some initial research on it. With no map in hand, I felt giddy with every turn in the street. It had a certain charm and the atmosphere was a little… festive? Perhaps it was just that everyone was smiling at me all the time, I couldn't help but smile back in response.
While rounding up one corner, a local woman suddenly stopped to look at me. I simply nodded my head to acknowledge her, but she didn't stop staring at me. I stopped to look at her now. She held me in her gaze and began quietly walking towards me. I couldn't move.
What is she saying? The woman reached out to touch my face and began speaking in Portuguese. Although it was something I had not understood, I knew that it was something urgent as I was reading her eyes. It seemed like a mixture of horror, relief, concern and sorrow that went through those eyes as it danced excitedly in front of mine.
"I-I'm sorry," I managed to say, tearing my eyes from hers. She held my wrist tight, as I turned to glare at her. I pulled away, with the strength that all my panic can muster. Turning around, I half-jogged away from the woman whose eyes were suddenly glassy with the tears that were about to fall. What the heck, I didn't need this kind of adventure in another country. It was strange to feel the power that came from such a small, aged woman.
"Vampiro," she said aloud. I froze. Did I hear it right? "Voce esta procurando a morte," she called again and I could feel her approach.
No. I didn't need to understand the language to pick up the essence of her words. I held my hand to my chest and ran. I ran away from the woman whose words pierced me. Vampiro. Morte.
Turning around the fifth street, I stopped to catch my breath and almost crashed into a couple of tables in front of an open café. I managed to lean upon one and tried desperately for deep, slow breaths. My heart was racing.
"Are you alright?"
American? I whipped my head to find my eyes locked in a pair of liquid gold.
My heart went wild.