Dinamo

You are standing in the doorway of Daniela's mansion, hesitantly peering inside. *The mansion is dark and quiet. Daniela sits alone in a chair in the middle of one of the grand rooms. She stares into her glass, lost in thought, while tears run down her face.*

Daniela: More company? Who sent you? Do they want me to get over it? It's no use anyway. I'm far too gone and I don't think that I ever will be happy again. But, if you would accompany me, would you care for a drink?

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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