La rabia se transformó en un alivio casi permanente. Por fin había desenterrado la verdad que por años su alma ocultaba. Ahora podía descansar. Pero también lo abrumaba un profundo pesar. Logró cruzar la línea y que más nunca podría volver a hacerlo. Desde ese entonces, las consecuencias las enfrentaría, con noches tan frías como la celda misma que habitará por el resto de sus días.

Si deseas participar en tan excelente propuesta creada por @freewritehouse. Continúa la historia - "NUEVO CONCURSO", hacer clic en el siguiente enlace: Click Aquí

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Gracias por su visita y leer. Hasta la próxima.

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English Version

"Anger never brings justice, only the condemnation of the soul."

Fuente

Cold nights like the cell itself.

He sat there, trying to come up with a fierce but polite response. For the first time, he felt so much rage that his hands trembled as if a terrible cold had struck him.

Without thinking, he jumped up and smashed his fist against the wall. The plaster cracked and sent out small splinters, and a sharp pain shot through his wrist. But he endured it, not caring how much it hurt. He had to release that rage; it was eating him up inside.

Fuente

The crowd in the bar, which had been lively and full of joy, now turned toward him. Rumors and whispers spread like wildfire. Among the people, he recognized a face: it was the same guy who had looked at him with that sarcastic smile. His heart pounded harder than usual, and adrenaline suddenly flooded his veins.

He lunged at him, knocking over chairs and tables in their way. Fists crashed into flesh, and a dull thud echoed in the place. The fight turned into a mass of punches and kicks, grunts and gasps. People screamed and stepped back, terrified.

Fuente

Finally, he lay on the ground, exhausted and in pain. The other man lay motionless beside him, a frozen expression on his face, not breathing. The police arrived minutes later, sirens and flashing lights flooding the scene. They handcuffed him and dragged him out of the bar, while onlookers watched, paralyzed by what had happened.

The cold cell with damp walls, surrounded by unknown bodies, helped him remember. It had been in that same city, years ago. An accident, they said. Just a slip. But now, seeing the face of the man he had killed, he knew with conviction. It hadn't been an accident. It was murder. And he, in his uncontrolled rage, had faced the real culprite.

The rage transformed into an almost permanent relief. At last, he had unearthed the truth that his soul had hidden for years. Now he could rest. But he was also overwhelmed with deep sorrow. He had crossed a line that he could never cross again. From that moment on, he would face the consequences, with nights as cold as the very cell he would inhabit for the rest of his days.

Fuente

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Jorge Rodríguez Medina(@siondaba)

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If you wish to participate in such an excellent proposal created by @freewritehouse. Continue the story - "NEW CONTEST", click on the following link: Click Aquí

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Thank you for your visit and reading. Until next time.

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