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Veronika decides to die :: Coelho Paulo
Страница: 7 из 115She was even happier that she would not have to go on seeing those same things for another thirty, forty, or fifty years, because they would lose all their originality and be transformed into the tragedy of a life in which everything repeats itself and where one day is exactly like another.
Her stomach was beginning to churn now, and she was feeling very ill indeed. It’s odd , she thought I thought an overdose of tranquilizers should have sent me straight to sleep. What she was experiencing, though, was a strange buzzing in her ears and a desire to vomit.
If I throw up, I won’t die.
She decided not to think about the stabbing pains in her stomach and tried to concentrate on the rapidly falling night, on the Bolivians, on the people who were starting to shut up their shops and go home. The noise in her ears was becoming more and more strident, and, for the first time since she had taken the pills, Veronika felt fear, a terrible fear of the unknown.
It did not last long. Soon afterward, she lost consciousness.
When she opened her eyes, Veronika did not think, This must be heaven . Heaven would never use a fluorescent tube to light a room, and the pain—which started a fraction of a second later—was typical of the Earth. Ah, that Earth pain—unique, unmistakable.
She tried to move, and the pain increased. A series of bright dots appeared, but, even so, Veronika knew that those dots were not the stars of paradise but the consequences of the intense pain she was feeling.
“She’s coming to,” she heard a woman say. “You’ve landed slap bang in hell, so you’d better make the most of it.”
No, it couldn’t be true; that voice was deceiving her. It wasn’t hell, because she felt really cold and she was aware of plastic tubes coming out of her nose and mouth. One of the tubes—the one stuck down her throat—made her feel as if she were choking.
She made an attempt to remove it, but her arms were strapped down. “I’m joking, it’s not really hell,” the voice went on. “It’s worse than hell, not that I’ve ever actually been there. You’re in Villete.”
Despite the pain and the choking feeling, Veronika realized at once what had happened. She had tried to kill herself, and someone had arrived in time to save her. It could have been one of the nuns, a friend who had decided to drop by unannounced, someone delivering something she had forgotten she had ordered. The fact is she had survived, and she was in Villete.
Villete, the famous and much-feared lunatic asylum, which had been in existence since 1991, the year of the country’s independence.
Her stomach was beginning to churn now, and she was feeling very ill indeed. It’s odd , she thought I thought an overdose of tranquilizers should have sent me straight to sleep. What she was experiencing, though, was a strange buzzing in her ears and a desire to vomit.
If I throw up, I won’t die.
She decided not to think about the stabbing pains in her stomach and tried to concentrate on the rapidly falling night, on the Bolivians, on the people who were starting to shut up their shops and go home. The noise in her ears was becoming more and more strident, and, for the first time since she had taken the pills, Veronika felt fear, a terrible fear of the unknown.
It did not last long. Soon afterward, she lost consciousness.
When she opened her eyes, Veronika did not think, This must be heaven . Heaven would never use a fluorescent tube to light a room, and the pain—which started a fraction of a second later—was typical of the Earth. Ah, that Earth pain—unique, unmistakable.
She tried to move, and the pain increased. A series of bright dots appeared, but, even so, Veronika knew that those dots were not the stars of paradise but the consequences of the intense pain she was feeling.
“She’s coming to,” she heard a woman say. “You’ve landed slap bang in hell, so you’d better make the most of it.”
No, it couldn’t be true; that voice was deceiving her. It wasn’t hell, because she felt really cold and she was aware of plastic tubes coming out of her nose and mouth. One of the tubes—the one stuck down her throat—made her feel as if she were choking.
She made an attempt to remove it, but her arms were strapped down. “I’m joking, it’s not really hell,” the voice went on. “It’s worse than hell, not that I’ve ever actually been there. You’re in Villete.”
Despite the pain and the choking feeling, Veronika realized at once what had happened. She had tried to kill herself, and someone had arrived in time to save her. It could have been one of the nuns, a friend who had decided to drop by unannounced, someone delivering something she had forgotten she had ordered. The fact is she had survived, and she was in Villete.
Villete, the famous and much-feared lunatic asylum, which had been in existence since 1991, the year of the country’s independence.