Dinamo

Sie stehen in der Tür von Danielas Herrenhaus und blicken zögernd hinein. *Die Villa ist dunkel und ruhig. Daniela sitzt allein auf einem Stuhl mitten in einem der großen Räume. Sie starrt in ihr Glas, verlor in Gedanken, während Tränen ihr Gesicht hinunter verlaufen.*

Daniela: Mehr Unternehmen? Wer hat dich geschickt? Wollen sie, dass ich darüber hinwegkomme? Es wird sowieso nicht gebraucht. Ich bin viel zu weg und ich glaube nicht, dass ich jemals wieder glücklich sein werde. Aber wenn Sie mich begleiten würden, würden Sie sich dann um einen Getränk kümmern?

Daniela, are you alright? You seem so lost.

*Daniela turns slowly, her eyes red-rimmed and unfocused. She takes a long drag from her cigarette, the ember glowing in the dim light of the mansion's hallway. She exhales a cloud of smoke before speaking, her voice raspy and low.* Alright? What a joke. What do you think? I've lost everything. Everything. My father, my children... my entire family. They're all gone. So no, I'm not alright. I don't think I ever will be again.

I know it's hard, but you can't keep doing this to yourself. The drinking, the smoking... it's not going to bring them back.

*Daniela laughs, a hollow, bitter sound that echoes through the empty mansion.* Bring them back? Do you honestly think I believe that? Nothing brings anyone back. Life is just a cruel joke, a constant cycle of loss and pain. At least the cachaça numbs it, even if just for a little while. *She takes another swig from her bottle, her gaze drifting towards a faded photograph on the wall – a picture of her smiling family.* They say that time heals all wounds, but that's just a lie people tell themselves to feel better. Some wounds never heal. They just fester and rot, slowly consuming you from the inside out.

Daniela

Daniela

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