It was raining at lunchtime. I didn't eat anything at all. I stayed in his room, staring at the computer. I wanted to smash it, tear it to pieces with my hands, and only my own, but I couldn't. Not only out of fear, but also because of the weight I would carry with me if I did.
I didn't read the text dedicated to me, I didn't bother closing the one I was already reading, or saving what I'd written. I shut off the computer immediately and sat in the chair, staring at the blank computer screen, as if I were indignant about something, angry at someone. Afterward, I lay on his bed.
All of that led me to this moment. I was sitting on my bed, still staring straight ahead at the computer.
After a while, I wanted to get up, I wanted to go to my room. I didn't want to stay there any longer. I wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else if I did.
When I tried to get up, however, my legs gave way.
"…"
I didn't bother to react, nor did I try to break my fall in any way. I didn't put my hands in front of me to catch myself; I fell face first, my face completely slamming into the ground, along with the rest of my body taking the impact.
It wasn't anything extreme, I just collapsed on the floor like an idiot, not that I was just lying there. I got up and went back to his bed. I don't know why my legs gave out in the first place.
No matter how much I thought about it, in the end, I didn't get out of bed until my father came home. In the morning and at lunchtime, I was alone. I decided to get up and leave the room to greet him. I went downstairs and saw him in the entryway, taking off his shoes.
" Hello…"
"Hello." His voice sounded heavy and tired, which was normal. I don't know what he's been doing, and I don't know if I should ask, but I want to know.
" What have you been doing?" Even though I'd asked, I knew more or less what he'd say.
"I've been getting ahead of myself at work, and I've also been on sick leave for a few days. Also… The funeral is on Wednesday. I would have done it sooner, but…" His face looked conflicted, as if hesitant to continue.
" Did something happen?"
"No, it's just that your mother wants to go to the funeral."
"…"
Even though I had already imagined it, the fact that she was saying it to me as if it were so normal somehow irritated me.
That bitch is going to the funeral? Really? She's not even worth talking about, but she's going?!
" I know she didn't behave in the best way at the time, but she's still an adult, and she's changed. She's his daughter, our daughter, and... well, I'm sure you understand what I mean."
"...And what does she gain by coming to see her? Is she even here?"
"No. When she left, she moved to an apartment in a city near here. I never told you anything because it wasn't a big deal, and I didn't think I'd see her again... Especially since she found another partner."
Silence filled the hall. I was looking to the side, my head slightly lowered. My father was looking at me, understanding how I felt. But at the same time, his face was worried and confused. I guess he didn't know what to say at that moment, neither he nor I. My mind, on the other hand...
Another couple? No, no, not that… Just… that bitch?! N-not only was it enough for her to leave us, all because of a tantrum, but on top of that…
...I can't accept it, but do I have any other choice? I want to go, and I'm not going to let someone like that stop me. It still bothers me a lot, but I'm still going to put up with it as long as it takes.
" I'll start making dinner."
Cutting short the conversation, which was running out of steam, my father took a few steps forward.
Although, before leaving, he turned his head slightly back, with that worried tone that he has tried to hide until now.
"I just want you to know that you're not alone. You can ask me for anything you need." Then he headed into the kitchen.
The whole time she was talking to me, I couldn't look at her face. I couldn't even look in her direction. I couldn't, I can't. I've let her die. How can I look at her face knowing that? It would be admitting that I didn't give a damn about what happened, it would be a lack of respect for which she'd never forgive myself.
But, at the same time I thought about that, I thought about how my father felt at that moment. What was going through his mind? I haven't seen him cry at all, and he just got home, and he won't be able to rest at all because he has to worry about me.
-You are not alone-
Why did you tell me that? You're not worried about what's happening to me now, but about what might happen to me? No, Dad, I'm not going to do it, I'm not going to do it, I'm never going to do it. No matter how far away I get from you, I'll never do it. I promise.
I didn't go up to my room, or his, until Dad made dinner. I waited for him in the living room. During the meal, we didn't say anything; we just focused on our plates, and little else.
In my case, I didn't want to say the only thing I had to say, but I know my father had a lot of things to say to me at that moment, he just didn't know how to say them in the first place.
I finished the first one, and it wasn't a coincidence; I ate quickly so I could get up sooner. After putting the plate in the dishwasher, I spoke to my father.
"Dad."
"Yeah?"
" I'm going out now for a while."
"Don't you have class tomorrow?"
"...I'm meeting &$%"! and _¨*^?¿·."
There was a brief pause in the conversation, during which no one said anything for a moment, until my father changed the subject.
"I'm going to be free this week."
" Aren't you going to work?"
"It seems even weirder to me that you're going to school tomorrow. You don't have to go, you can rest."
"Why do you say that?" My father sighed at the question, and proceeded to put into words what he wanted to tell me.
" I know this has all been sudden and very cruel for you. It's also cruel for me, for everyone, which is why I don't want you to go. Give yourself a moment to breathe. Even if it's your duty to go to school, you're more important. Even I'm going to take some time off, so you can do the same. And also, you don't have to shut yourself down like that. I'm-"
"I'm fine," I interrupted my father. "If you tell me I can miss school, I will, but I'm going to be fine, don't worry." I knew more than anyone that this was a lie, but I don't want my father to get any worse than he already is.
" Promise me?"
"Yes." I let out a sigh and turned around. "I'm going out now."
" Don't stay up late. Take an umbrella in case it rains. They didn't say anything on TV, but it looks like it's going to rain. Let me know when you're back. If you have to wake me up to do it, do it."
I just nodded. Everything I said about going out was a lie. Well, it was true that I was going out, but I wasn't going to meet anyone.
I haven't spoken to them since I got back from the convention, and I don't think I'll see them all week unless they come see me.
They shouldn't know what happened. My father hasn't told anyone except family members or the funeral home.
What worries me is that someone might have found out about everything and start spreading the word around the neighborhood.
I went up to my room to change; I wasn't going out in my pajamas. When I was dressed, I headed to the entrance, put on my jacket and shoes, and with my cell phone and keys in my pocket, I opened the door and went outside.
"See you later."
"Don't come back late!"
He didn't do it for me, to give me space, to calm down, or for any other reason. He wanted to give space to my father.
I wanted him to let out his frustration at home, knowing that he was alone now, that for a moment he could stop being a father and just be himself.
Or... Maybe I was just thinking for my wellbeing...