In a corner of memory, where voices whisper in silence, a figure dressed in shadow smiles with psychopathic thoughts.
"How far do you want to go?" she asked, her smile twisted.
"As far as you want," he replied, his voice as cold as steel.
"How far will you let me see?"
"As far as you want."
"Good…" she said, grazing the air as if holding a secret. "Then I'll reach your heart, take it, break it… because it's mine. And your eyes, too. They'll be mine. You'll become an ice sculpture painted with my blood."
The scene dissolves into a dark room. A little girl with golden hair and green eyes like a panther's edge cries. Pure tears slide down her face while blood flows from her chest.
"My mind has a maturity my body can't bear," she says, with a torn smile. "I knew a pain I didn't deserve. I learned that power wins over reason, and a good reputation can make you a victim even when you're the victimizer. I hate you for bringing me into this world—but thank you for your effort. You deserve nothing. I hate every day I carry your name. One day they'll see the shine of my wings, even if you clipped them. Maybe I was the cruel one… but now I am selfish, beautiful, and evil."
Her voice cracks between tears.
"They will pay with blood for my pain. I don't care about innocence. I will take everything from them. Because the world will know my name."
LIANA woke suddenly, agitated. That vision again. That girl. That past she couldn't erase. She got up, went to the bathroom, and looked at herself in the mirror.
"Who are you?" she whispered softly, forcing a smile that quickly faded. "It's time to make myself beautiful… even though I already am."
She chose a simple, elegant blue dress. It didn't look like a university outfit. She took a photo, left her apartment, and drove. On the way, she collided with another car.
BENJAMÍN, a charming and extroverted young man, stepped out of the other vehicle. When he saw her, he was struck dumb. She was more beautiful than words could describe.
"I'm sorry—wasn't my mistake," LIANA said coldly.
"It was my fault, miss. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, thank you," she replied with an enchanting smile.
She resumed her drive and arrived just in time for her class.
"That was close…" she whispered as she took her seat.
She took her assignment out of her bag—it slipped and fell. ALEXANDRA, a rich, arrogant, professor-favored young woman, picked it up with a venomous smile.
"Give me my paper," LIANA demanded.
"This paper is mine. You just wrote your name on it," Alexandra responded brazenly.
They were about to argue when the professor stepped in.
"Whose paper is this?"
"It's mine, Professor," LIANA said, convincingly sad.
"Professor, why would she lie?" Alexandra intervened. "If you want, my father can confirm it."
The professor hesitated, then reprimanded LIANA and allowed Alexandra to write her name on the paper.
Humiliated, LIANA retreated to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her face reflected resignation, but a fire burned within.
"It doesn't matter… My life has always been unfair. But one day I'll be so rich they'll crawl for my help. Alexandra will pay. I'll take everything from her until she loses her reason to live. And that professor… he'll fall too."
A few minutes later, the professor intercepted her.
"Redraft the work and hand it to me… in secret."
"Okay, sir," she replied coolly.
This humiliation… you will pay, she thought as she returned to her bag. When she exited, she locked eyes with ALEXANDRA, who was still smiling. LIANA smiled too, as if nothing had happened.
She was about to head to her next class when a young man with blue eyes and smooth skin approached with a bouquet of roses.
"Today you will accept being my girlfriend," MANUEL said confidently.
LIANA took the bouquet delicately and smiled.
"I'm sorry… but no. It's not time yet."
"Someday you'll accept me," he whispered.
She gently moved him aside and walked on.
How foolish… but playing with him wouldn't hurt. Anyway, let's finish this day.
LIANA entered her next class, and once again ALEXANDRA was already there. She came forward with an arrogant smile.
"It's a pity you're not worthy of being my follower," she said disdainfully. "There are many better than you, and I will always prevail. I will always be better than you."
LIANA replied with a serene, almost sweet smile.
"You're no competition for me, beauty. You got an education to please society, but it seems your teachers took advantage of your parents' ignorance. You fear I'll surpass you—but that's already happened. I always was, and always will be, better than you."
Alexandra gritted her teeth, refusing to back down.
"Do you know what's sad?" Alexandra said, smiling as if it were minor gossip. "I don't think you'll make much progress, though you'll try, because in this society it's not will that rules, but money, beauty… and those willing to give their lives for crumbs."
LIANA kept her calm smile, as if everything rolled off her.
"I have more than enough intelligence and beauty. You, on the other hand, lack everything."
With that, she sat down. Alexandra never had the chance to respond: the professor just walked into the classroom.
---
After classes ended, LIANA returned home. The silence of the apartment embraced her with the same coldness she clung to. She collapsed onto the sofa and thought with muted sadness:
"I chose this solitude myself. In the end, none of the people I loved understood me… and maybe I didn't know how to understand them either. But I don't care. Being alone feels… right. I can do whatever I want."
A small smile appeared on her lips.
"One day I want a dog. One that no one dares to touch, but one I can hold… how absurd. And I want to buy clothes. Not for expensive brands, but for quality, for beauty. One day I'll have everything I want."
Her expression changed. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, and in that image saw more than herself: she saw contradiction.
"How sad… because that's not what I truly want. 'Your justice is my justice,' I repeat… but is that what I want? Or just an echo I imposed?"
She looked at the roses Manuel had given her. She approached them quietly and took them with a false calm. Then, determined, she tore them apart one by one.
"How foolish… He thinks I'll fall into his silly game of supposed love. How useless. I hate red roses. They represent love, desire, passion… but love is something I don't allow myself."
She frowned in severity. Silence fell again.
"That joy those roses bring… I detest it."
And then, she smiled. A light smile… but heavy with dark thoughts.