Summary:

"It's all promises that they'll take what is given until it's something they don't want to hear."

Bruno Madrigal, a young man who has the gift of foresight, feels as if his gift is more of a curse than a blessing. After another unsuccessful session in which a villager leaves unhappy, he suddenly gets an unwanted vision that leaves him confused.

-o-o-

Written in Bruno's POV.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"¡mala suerte, eres mala suerte!"

Señora Pezmuerto yells at me and rushes out, kicking sand all over. I fumble behind her, stuttering my apologies, chasing her down the flight of stairs.

Why does this keep happening? It's the third time today that someone has yelled at me about how unlucky I am. I always make it a point to warn anyone who dares to ask for a vision to not shoot the messenger. It's all promises that they'll take what is given until it's something they don't want to hear, then they get all mad at me.

Take, for instance, the Señora who's practically flying, trying to flee. She asked me about her future, and I gave her one. And what did she do? Throw the vision back at me, calling me La Diablo for revealing to her that her fish is going to die.

But fish don't live long lives, right?

Before I can catch up to her to apologize yet again, the door slams shut, hitting me on the nose. Maldición, why do I have such a prominent nose? I stand there, sore nose and all, staring at the door. I sigh. Another unhappy customer.

*Squeak*

A rat climbs out of my ruana. I forgot I put Jorge in my pocket earlier. I watch him scurry up my shoulders and settle on the top of my head. If I'm not depressed at the moment I would've laughed about it.

"Not now, Jorge."

I look up at the cavernous space that's part of my room. I don't know what my five-year-old self was thinking. Ciudad Perdida? El Peñón de Guatapé? Maybe Casita thought I'd be able to be in tune with my visions if I were closer to the heavens.

The only thing I'm closer to is running out of breath.

I don't feel like going back to my vision cave, so I turn right instead, behind a rock that's covering the entrance to my actual bedroom. I shake the sand off my clothes as I enter, pick Jorge off my head, and place him down on my dresser. He sniffs the air and squeaks again.

"No, I do not want to talk about it," I chide, and he holds my stare for a moment before scampering off, probably to find Hernando. Sometimes I feel loco for talking to rats, but they're the only friends I've got. I do have mis hermanas, though, but that doesn't count.

I plop myself down on my armchair and rub my temples. Ay, I wonder if Julieta has a cure for my aching head.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

After what seems like an eternity, I manage to gather the courage to leave my room and make my way down to the kitchen. I breathe a sigh of relief when I spot the extra arepas Julieta made earlier that morning sitting on the counter. I haven't eaten anything all day except for a very light breakfast, what with the influx of people wanting to get their future read. I don't get why they still bother when they always end up either upset, angry, or just plain rude. It's a physically and emotionally taxing job, and completely thankless too. I still do it anyway.

I'm starving.

No one's thankfully around, so I'm able to enjoy the quiet and a good meal. I'm not in the mood to explain myself to the family about why another unhappy villager left the house in such a hurry.

I'm down to the last piece of arepa and I contemplate sneaking it to give to my rats. I stare at the arepa on the plate, then decide to leave it. I remember Julieta scolding me last time when I took food without her permission. She didn't want me to encourage them to think it's okay to steal food in the house. Julieta's never been judgmental about me having a lot of rodents as pets, but Pepa on the other hand thinks I'm weird for my affinity for them.

Satisfied, I turn to leave the kitchen feeling a whole lot better when it happens.

Oh Dios, aquí vamos.

I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut as I grip the edge of the kitchen counter. I can feel myself violently shake like I'm in the middle of an earthquake, but I know it's just me. There's an eerie green light behind my eyelids. I'm getting an unwanted vision.

"Eh, Casita, little help here please?" I call out to the house. My throat feels dry like I swallowed a handful of sand. Seconds later I hear the clacking of the kitchen tiles and a glass slides into my hand. My head throbs again, even worse than before. I gulp the water down, hoping to get some relief. It doesn't do much to help me.

I fight the urge to scream as the pain forces my eyes open. You'd think I'm used to it by now, seeing things that are yet to be.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Fireworks. A lively band. Someone dancing, twirling in a beautiful dress. A smile.

The vision ends too soon before I can see more and I find myself on the floor, sweating and breathing heavily. I feel like throwing up.

La Casita moves a trash can near me. I sit up and dry heave. Once. Twice. Nothing.

"I'm okay, Casita," I say while I try to stand. The kitchen drawer opens as if giving me a hand. I hold on to it, pulling myself up off the floor. My legs feel wobbly. What was that?

My normal visions are tiring, unwanted ones much more, but this one takes the cake. I feel like someone knocked the living lights out of me. "Thanks for the…er…hand."

Casita swings its windows and cupboards at me. The tiles bounce around.

"It's nothing." I shrug it off. "Maybe a blip in the future." I look out the window just in time to see Pepa running up the hill, looking all excited. She must've heard some juicy gossip that she's practically shooting rainbows everywhere. I look down at my hands. The small, round glass feels cold as I turn the vision over my palms. I don't want to deal with anything else today.

"Eh, Casita. Not a word to Mamá or to anyone else about what just happened, okay?" The shutters open and close as I make my exit. "I'm going out."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Glossary of terms (in order of appearance in-text):

Mala suerte, eres mala suerte - Bad luck, you're bad luck
La Diablo- The Devil
Maldición- Curses (in this context: Damn)
Ruana - a poncho-style outer garment native to the Colombian Andes.
Ciudad Perdida - One of Colombia's landmarks, located deep in Colombia's Sierra Nevada. Ciudad Perdida translates to "The Lost City".
El Peñón de Guatapé- A Colombian national monument located in Guatapé, Antioquia. El Peñón de Guatapé translates to "The Rock of Guatapé".
Oh Dios, aquí vamos - Oh God, here we go
Casita - Cottage (but in the story and movie context, Casita is a proper noun, the name of Casa Madrigal.
La Casita- The little house