And she was there, in opposition with everything obsolete and traditional, while the world implores his order and resignation. But she always screams: “I’m not like you, I never was and I will never be that girl that you want me to be”.
She was so tired about society and its hypocritical norms, that one day she scape, far, far away, and she wrapped herself in fire while the phosphate corroded every odor of the walls of his body and the people still said: “She can't be like that; she has to be sweet and pretty! Obedient and calm!” But the true is that Nela was never like that, she wasn’t born to be calm, she wasn’t born to be static, because Nela is not in this world to satisfy the desires of the other. She doesn't belongs to them, she belongs to herself, under her own rules and nuances, under her own sighs and roots.
However, the other people still implored her: “Come back, come back, and accept your role without complaint”. But she always ran until one day she stopped running and she just disappeared. Some people in the town say that she escaped to another place, one place when she can finally feel the winds of freedom.
