All Chapters of Those Who Left Me For Dead : Chapter 11
- Chapter 20
38 chapters
The story continues
"We raised your father in a shack here in Carolina, I used to wash and iron the clothes of rich people whilst your abuelo sang at weddings and even concerts." she continued " we were poor, but we never went to bed hungry even though our son Marco thought we had everything," she explainedI listened attentively, not daring to even ask questions because everything she said always explained itself "when Marco was five years old we sent him to school, it was there that he realized he was different and that other kids had more than he did" my grandmother gave a cold shrug "we did all we could and at most it was enough until he went to school, every child there dressed more smarter than he did, they had better looking schoolbags and had more scrumptious lunches and he only had to go to school in handsewn clothing and oversized shoes, he didn't even have a school jersey"My heart began to bleed for the man who had birthed me, I imagined him in his oversized school clothing thy other kids
Karma at my doorstep
The following morning, I woke up bright and early it was a Sunday morning, and we were going to church.I didn't like attending church but we were strict catholics and church was a must, so I got up early to prepare so that I would have enough time to spend before church, as I went to the bathroom to wash the sound of hard thumping knocks jolted me to the front door but my abuela beat me to the it, she opened the door.Standing in front of our doorstep were two neatly dressed police officers. Before my grandmother could ask them why they were here, they enquired in unison "Are you Theresa Cardaso?" They askedI gave a yelp was my abuela under arrest? The officers barely took note of me standing beside my abuela. My grandmother looked back at me and then to the officers before admitting"Yes, I am." I waited anxiously, hoping it was not an arrest that there was a misunderstanding, but the officers continued"Your daughter-in-law Linda Cardaso committed suicide in a hotel room in the
Child, let it be
I don't know how long I was in trance but I know what broke it, I felt the strong embrace, the aroma of the arepas that clung to her like an expensive perfume as well the warmth of her hug engulf me..."it's okay, you have me now," she said, patting my back. No tears escaped my eyes deep inside a cold, silent, and chilly emptiness is all I felt where there should've been a broken heart"Oh child," Was all she could say as she comforted me because truly what could you tell an eight year old child who had just lost his mother, either than lowly muttered words of comfort which barely managed to shine through the gloomy haze of grief. Andrea suddenly walked in dressed in pajamas and all childlike innocence. "nana is Matteo crying again?" She asked, rubbing her sleepy eyes and sighing deeply. I didn't feel them falling but when Andrea mentioned crying I felt myself wiping floods of tears that I had no control over, abuela ignored Andrea's question and began wiping at my face with the ba
Smell the roses
The orchestra sounded from afar the uptown the cathedral announcing an important gathering.Today was the day, hair gelled and slicked back, a neat well fitted kiddies custom made suit and shiny black shoes, I looked every bit like a mini red carpet Don off to a major Hollywood premier but the glum and sadness on my face told a different story.The hearse carrying the body arrived before we did, we followed suit inside a church members car, dozens of cars parked outside the church area multiple black clad individuals graced the churches wide open doors.The church was decorated so lovely at the front a large oval picture of my mother surrounded by white roses hung on the other side of the church doors, on thy other side a large stand of white roses stood, an usher by the door dressed in black handed an obituary and white rose to those who came to pay their last respects to our mother. White roses were my mother’s favorite color. This was her funeral over a week prior we had learnt of
A letter from a mother to her son
I don't know how long I stood outside the church before feeling ready to go back inside. As I took a step inside, a tall bald neatly dressed middle-aged man blocked my entrance "Pardon me?"He said in a posh educated accent"You must be Matteo Cardaso?" He asked despite my reservations. I nodded a yes, as nice as it was to get attention and sympathy from the people about my mother’s passing.I still wasn't allowed to talk to strangers. He extended a hand to me, which I reluctantly shook "I am Mario Velasquez, your mother’s lawyer" He announced before reaching into the pockets of his double breast suit and handing me a small white envelope"Your mother wanted me to give you this. It's sealed it's never been opened " He revealed "Only she knew the contents of it," he said before giving me a sympathetic grin. " She told me to tell you to read it when the time was right" I felt intrigued. What was inside this small, thin envelope that she had employed a swanky, expensive looking la
A betrayal that caused a death
"Dearest Matteo, if you are reading this letter now it means that I have done it, I have commited suicide and succeeded, now you are reading this and am dead and you are wondering why?, I don't have all the answers but one thing I can tell is that I love you and Andrea more than anything else in the world and I hope that oneday both of you will be able to forgive me for what I have done and learn to live it" The tears fell down my eyes, she really did this to us, she alone caused us this grief, she made that choice to die and leave us orphaned "This is the worst thing I've ever done."The letter went on."I killed myself not just because your father left me but because of the situations that were unlivable that he left me in. Matteo your father is in the Dominican Republic he lives here with his supposed new wife Martella, your friend Marcelo's mother, your father is Marcelo's real father and he has chosen to stay with her and Marcelo in the Dominicana" That was absurdity. My fathe
Trying times...
I stood on thy edge for what felt like an eternity, contemplating the exact meaning of the occurring events my family and I found ourselves entangled in. Our mom was dead, our father had abandoned us for another woman my supposed friend's own mother for that matter and now I had learnt that Marcelo was actually my big brother, Marcelo and I were born just a year apart with him being the eldest, which meant that Marcelo was actually my older brother.The news would have been welcomed under different circumstances but now my mother was dead and our father had abandoned Andrea and I for Marcelo, to worsen matters he had started adding on his new family with the arrival of his next children, Andrea and I had been left and forgotten in Carolina. The bitterness of my father's betrayal left a sour taste in my mouth. How would I live now? Knowing everything and what would tell Andrea, who kept expecting our father to return back into our lives. And Marcelo?, he knew we were related, he didn
Silent prayer
Some people tell you they knew everything had changed after a major incident occurred or in the build-up to that particular incident, that there were tell tale signs that the incident would occur.I try time and time again to stretch my brain everything I try to think of when things changed. Where are there signs? Did I know? Had I a clue? Could I have acted differently if I had known.The answer to all those questions remains a resounding no. How in my eight year old mind would I have guessed that my father would walk out on us, that my mother would commit suicide that my abuela would get arrested for selling arepas without a permit on the exact day we had buried my mother? That I would get a letter telling me in detail of my father's betrayal whilst I had lingering hopes that he would comeback and soothe the aches of my mother’s death. How? How?. So cold, so cruel was the day that even my own enemy whom I had taken bread from its mouth pitied me, some would call it karma? If it wa
Somethings aren't as they seem
The following day the Priest told us that he and his wife would be visiting our abuela in court as she was having an appearance there, Andrea and I wanted to go but the Priest said that the court was not a good place for children so we stayed behind.When the Priest had left, I sensed that the mood of the elderly lady in the house had somewhat changed, at first, she forbid us to go out and play "You kids should stay inside the house, I don't want to be chasing you kids all over the neighborhood with my arthritis," she had claimed. When Andrea followed me to me, she stopped her "Girly you must stay in your own room" she told her, Andrea tearfully went to her room but shortly after I heard Andrea running outside a small peek of my window confirmed it, which I found odd. I didn't want to enquire about that, so I spent my time reading a children's book about Noah and the ark and found myself dozing off. A loud shattering sound of glass hitting ceramic and breaking woke up abruptly fro
Only time will tell
We had been placed in the Priest's care on a Sunday afternoon and by Wednesday the following week I was really fed up because not only did we not go to school for those past three days, we also had no idea if our abuela was ok or not, not to mention the fact that the elderly woman had started berating us to the Priest's wife "The boy is very rude. You can tell he takes after his father," the woman had said. To my suprise, the priest's wife agreed"I just hope that their abuela gets released soon so she can fetch them, they were not meant to stay this long" she lamented, from her tone it appeared she was really fed up with us. Yet when her husband returned from the church, the Priest's wife announced to me that the dry cleaners had called and that my suit was ready to collect, she announced this with all feigned glee and I merrily played along despite her earlier words. She left with the priest to fetch my suit. Shortly after they had left, I heard the sound of a car pulling up the d