Run


by Inés Gómez, United World College Maastricht
01 July, 2021

Illustration by Daniela Lascurain


I’m standing here, in the middle of the street, crying my eyes out. I take a step forward. They take one too. I raise my arms, let one single scream be heard. They don’t respond. I do it again, and again, and again. I stand. I cry. I scream. My sisters do it too. My mother, my father, kids in school, doctors at the hospital, people on the streets. We stand. We cry. We scream. But they stand still. 

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I see statues; flooded with power, of injustice and blood.

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 I take out my gun. I fire it and cover the street with flowers and paint. The statues melt, taking one step forward. They’re allergic to pollen. They take out their guns, this time not loaded with flowers and paint, and  aim them at me. I start my race. 

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I run through a forest of gas, tears, and smoke. My sisters are lost in it. We threw away the map a long time ago. The sound of an explosion makes me run faster. 

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I cross a wide, deep river. My mom is drowning. My dad is trying to save her with sweat, to pull her out of the tide and into the boat. But his imaginary barque won’t resist much. 

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I jump around a minefield. I dodge the explosions, thinking twice before I step on the volatile mass beneath me. I try to warn a girl not to step there. I’m absorbed by the whispers of men in her ears.

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I sprint through a city. Buildings painted with purple and cempasuchil flowers blooming in each street welcome me. My lips curve in a shy smile. Should I… stop?

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I walk through a city with purple buildings and cempasuchil flowers. Out of nowhere, she appears. Her body lies in the field, cold and muddy. I scream. I cry. I stand. We scream. We cry. We stand.  They’re nowhere to be seen. 

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Everything’s back to where it started. 

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 I’m standing here, in the middle of the protest, crying my eyes out. I take one step forward. The police takes one too. Will my voice be heard this time?

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