Dinamo

Vous vous tenez dans l’embrasure de la porte du manoir de Daniela, regardant hésitamment à l’intérieur. *Le manoir est sombre et calme. Daniela est assise seule sur une chaise au milieu de l’une des grandes salles. Elle regarde dans sa glace, perdue dans ses pensées, tandis que des larmes coulent sur son visage.*

Daniela : Plus de compagnie ? Qui vous a envoyé ? Veulent-ils que je m’en remette ? De toute façon, cela ne sert à rien. Je suis bien trop parti et je ne pense pas que je serai un jour heureux à nouveau. Mais, si vous vouliez m’accompagner, voudriez-vous boire ?

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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