THE RUNAWAY SISTERS (Runaways, Refugees & Escapees)

  On a roundabout, out of the city, I hid inside the bushes, waiting for the right car that would give me the ride I was in need of.  And so, after a long wait, there it came, meandering from one side to the other side of the road, a brand new Jeep came. Electronic dance music coming from the insides, like an aura. And so, from the bushes I jumped out suddenly and to the middle of the road with arms up. Thus, the car brakes abruptly, almost stopping in the ditch. And then, inside the car, we can already see, two female mischievous smiles, bulgy eyes staring at me. And so, as the back door  opens, I get in. And as I get in, the girls turn back to inspect my complexion, and there they go, making some dancing moves with head and shoulders as the beats are making the windows tremble. And so, the driver got red hair and a slender face. Yet, her accompanist has bluish hair and a bit more chubby face. And so, at this point, It was already accomplished that we are family. So, one of them reduces the volume of the fast beats a bit, in order that we could talk and be heard. I get to know, they are fugitives like me, they have stolen the Jeep from their parents, and here they are on their way to an electronic music gathering that supposedly should be happening in the surrounding mountains, this is, in the middle of nowhere... or just, down there... And as it goes, I promptly agreed to accompany them to the so-called rave. And then, as normal, they want to know my name and from where I come from. And so, I tell them to not worry, because actually I was coming from some fictional tale and my name is Shima. But then, the sound is so high (the power of the beats almost making the window crack), that I doubt that they understood anything I said. Anyway, they share looks between them and laugh bizarrely. “My name is Mila” says the driver, while reducing the volume of the radio. Mila that has red hair and slender lips, “and I don't like boys” she adds. And so, now the other one, the one with blue hair, also presents herself. “My name is Daphne, and I have nothing to do with Greek mythology, OK”. So, Daphne's face is kinda oval, a bit chubby. And I saw almost nothing in common between their faces, still, I decided to ask if  they were sisters, and the answer was Yes. “Criminal sisters” says the driver while turning the music up again. And then I even had to grab myself on the front seat because Mila's driving style turned somehow crazy. And while I felt to the right and to the left on the back seat, Daphne spoke to me with a loud, but sweet voice, “and what is this story you are coming from a fiction tale, what do you mean with that? I mean, what kind of liar are you?”. And to this I say ”I´m no liar, well, I have come from far far away, my memory is fucked up, fiction and reality is the same thing to me now, I have been sleeping rough here and there, and as I remember, I was living under a bridge with other indigents in a country I don't remember the name now, so, I have been on the road for days, weeks, years, not sure, but last night, I’m sure, I slept in the fire-brigade building, in a village not so far away from here. “What?” she says. And then “What fire are you talking about? By the way do you have a lighter?” And before I could answer Mila continued “We are looking for an old military base... that's where the party is happening! Ok?!"; “OK, perfect” I say and then I grab the cane between my fingers, I take some deep puffs that make me stand against the back of the seat, and they tell me to not worry, they want to know nothing more, they know already everything about me, need no more excuses. And then, as I try to look back, for an instant, I get blind... About the music, its style, it goes from goa-trance to dubstep, from dubstep to afrobeat and then from afrobeat to tekno-punk, and from tekno-punk to acid-house, and from acid-house to a strange kind of pop music or whatsoever... and the GPS teaches the way. "Are you not fed up of changing your identity?” asks the driver. "No, never, this is an endless search", “And what do you like to do more? Besides walking around?”, “I steal the rich to give the poor”, “Oh yeah, classic… and what do you steal?" Daphne asked, this time. “I have been stealing backgrounds,” I said seriously. And they laugh on it, but a strange kind of laugh. And then Mila says “I also want to rob the office of the president… Would you help me?”, “Sure, I'm here to play the clown”... And then, I don't remember why, the conversation changed into the Olympic modalities matter. They ask me if I have any favourite Olympic modality, or one that I would like to practice. To what I say “Maybe the pole vault!”; “Because?"; she asks, “Perhaps because I find beautiful that quasi-stop of the bodies when passing over the crossbar"; “And what else do you know about beauty?"; “I know that she likes us!”; “And let's see, which one of us do you think is prettier?"; "That's a difficult question, but I see that you two complement one another, anyway, I may say now, I'm far the more handsome here, and yes, I'll explain... let me just ask, I have the right too, what kind of Olympics modalities do you actually practice?"; “Pentathlon... Triathlon... Spartacus... a mix of cycling, swimming, belly dancing, cooking potatoes and bullshiting... and you will need to eat the ball at the end!” No one laughs here. We ride now in silence. Enough of ridiculousness. Now I´m thinking about how many people are giving birth now… And how many are dying? That's what I think while  we change roads... moving at a slower speed now, because we are going down on a muddy earth road, and then the GPS is gone. Mila stops the vehicle here and there, and we come out, in silence, trying to hear something, trying to find the clue that we are going in the right direction. But no, there are no sounds, no beats coming on the wind. Just stars moving stealthily, and trees cracking.. And inside the car we go again. And down the hill again. And out we come again. Many times we repeat this procedure until that the confirmation arrives. Still far away, but yes, now we can hear the beats, we can feel the groove. And so, down we go again a few  kilometres plus, the road getting worse, more tricky, until that behind some bushes begins to appear the valley, the valley where that supposedly ruined military area is. And the sky is getting  cloudy, pieces of scaffolds appear and disappear in between the trees. Lights turning around. The sub-bass becoming more and more evident on the back of our head, and that feeling on the stomach, like someone putting the hand inside. And then, finally, we leave the car (covering it with roots and branches) and as we walk following the sound, this is, the fat beats, we see that, actually we are just a few meters from the barbed wire that surrounds the citadel. And so, I tell the girls to watch out for the rusty grenades around, to see where they put their feet and they, making fun of me, they pass me the bottle of Whiskey, the bottle of Gin, the bottle of Liqueur, whatever... After the barbed wire, there is a wall, and the space between the barbed wire and the wall, is like a war trench, where other individuals are undressing their personalities, humans becoming silhouettes and silhouettes becoming monsters, and whatsoever... while standing on the top of this ruined wall, we are heroes, happy to be here on this border, here now is the top of the world... deep breath... "Attention with the radiation", someone says as we land inside over the oiled brambles.  Then we see, people with toxic masks approach us, trying to sell something, but we run away from them, in the direction of the pavilions, the sound of helicopters prowling over our heads. This is, the pavilions are buildings in semi-ruin with colourful but rusty decorations attached, this is a postmodern-almost-never-seen-kindof-plastic-world. And inside each of these pavilions there seems to exist different micro-societies… So, we have to choose the one that has more to do with our identity and then I see a guy dressed in a gorilla suit (the number 777 stamped on his back) approaching, and as he approaches he throws a ball in my direction, a basketball, and I'm holding the ball now, and then I understand, he wants me to sign my name in the ball, or whatever, but then he goes away and I stand here with the ball in my hands inspecting the other signatures on its surface. Not just signatures, but also drawings, phrases, mixed symbols... But now, I don't feel like writing anything, and so, instead, I throw the ball to the sisters that brought me here, and here they are coming now, wearing different clothes, pyjamas with underwear over it, and so, I see, they are actually already playing some silly game with the Gorilla´s friends. And as they play, I stand back. Coming back to the big aquarium. And as I walk around it, I realize that there are actually no doors to enter inside. So, as I understand, the entrance should be made through the several round windows at middle height all around the building. And I may say, by these windows, I see some  creatures clambering through the walls with the help of sticks, tattered clothes shining in the dark, this is, jungle techniques from medieval times being adapted to the circumstances. And so, in the meanwhile I call the girls, and together we manage to jump inside one of these aquarium buildings. And once there, there we go, sinking into those sticky chill out ambiences – glitch sounds that make my feet slip over imaginary conclusions… and then, I see the girls moving away, and a series of shiny-blue teeth heads dancing around them, around me, and so, in the meanwhile there are some individuals descending from the ceiling embracing thorny crocodiles that are bursting as they land in the middle of all of us.