INTERCAMBIO DE TIEMPO (Written in English)

Left with the guilt 2

" Dad!!" Emily screamed and ran toward him. He was lying motionless on the ground. She placed her ears on his chest for his heartbeat and " No! No!! No!!!" she cried out with watery eyes and trembling lips.

Matthew immediately ran to Alex. " We need to…." The sudden sound of the door opening interrupted him. Emily's mother emerged, dripping in a cold sweat.

" Camila…I." Matthew stuttered but Camila ignored him. She ran towards her husband and felt his pulse.

" He is alive … we should take him to the hospital." She suggested. She dabbed the sweat on her forehead and grabbed her husband by the arm. She was struggling to lift him on her own.

" Let me do it," Matthew said and lifted Alex. They laid him in his car, while Matthew sat in the driver's seat.

They got in and quickly drove towards the hospital. At the hospital, Alex was quickly rushed to the emergency room. Blood spewed from his mouth, as his condition worsened. His eyes were closed shut but what, reassured them that he was alive was the rising and falling of his chest.

They were told to wait outside the room, as nurses and doctors ran into the room with various tools. Emily stood alone, nervously biting her finger. Her eyes stung from crying too much and her throat hurts.

Camilla was leaning on the wall, her eyes looking towards the ceiling. She ran her hand through her hair, as a quiet sigh escaped her mouth. " Emily sweetie." Camila walked toward her daughter with hands stretched out to touch her. She wanted to comfort her daughter, to assure her that nothing was going to happen.

" Stay…Away…From...Me." Emily warned with crossed arm and furrowed brows. She looked quite upset and disappointed at the same time.

" I know you are upset but I just want you to know that he is going to be alright," Camila said with hope that she was right. Deep down within, she prayed he'd be alright.

" You better pray he'd get better," Emily said rudely and rolled her eyes. " You disgust me." She added and walked away, as Matthew approached them.

" Camila,"  Matthew said with beads of sweat on his forehead. He was becoming anxious and ran his hand through his hair.

" Please Matthew I'd love to be left alone." She said and buried her face in her palm. She was weeping and did not want him to see it. She walked towards a seat and sat on it. There were other patients in the room, waiting for their turn. They all wanted to see the doctor. She could tell that they were all staring at them and she felt even more embarrassed by it.

Matthew knew she was crying but decided to respect her wishes. He quietly went back to where he stood before. At long last, the doctor came out of the ward. Without saying anything, he just beckoned them to follow him. He led them to his office and offered them seats.

" What's wrong? Is he alright?" Camille asked and her voice cracked. She was really worried about her husband.

The doctor took in a deep breath and exhaled. " Madam." He began, gaining their attention. " There is nothing wrong with your husband. The truth is, we can't find anything wrong with him." He added.

They all heaved a sigh of relief, except Emily who didn't seem convinced. She could feel it in her gut that something wasn't right. She felt chills run down her spine. Her heart raced and her head began to hurt.

She was fuming and seethed her teeth in pure rage. "  No!" She began and attracted their attention. She looked at her uncle and mother.

Her fist clenched and tears fell from the corner of her left eye. " My father is not alright, what do you mean you can't find anything? I can feel that something is wrong. My mother and this man caused all this."  She uttered pointing at the two.

Her mother was looking quite embarrassed and her lips trembled. She wanted to say something. To stop her daughter from spilling everything out to a total stranger. The doctor was equally surprised as he adjusted his spectacular. Fortunately, a nurse walked in unannounced, interrupting Emily.

The nurse was looking frightened as her eyes surveyed the room. Beads of sweat were dripping from her forehead. " Doctor is the patient in room number 187." She informed." He's dead." She adds and she ran out with the doctor, who excused himself.

" What were you thinking, Emily?" Her uncle asked her. He wasn't sitting and was standing right in front of her.

Emily glared at him and walked out of the office, heading towards the emergency ward. She was standing by the window, but could not see through the blinds obstructing her view. A nurse walked out of the room.

" Is my father in there?" She asked and her voice cracked.

The nurse scanned her up and down, and gave a faint smile. " No." She replied. " He was in room number 187. There is another patient and he needs help urgently." The nurse said and walked away.

Beads of sweat ran down Emily's forehead, as she remembered the nurse earlier, saying that the patient in room number 187 just died. She asked for directions and ran towards the ward. Getting there, she barged in unannounced.

She saw the doctor covering her father with a white sheet. She gasped in shock and clamped her hands over her mouth. Tears fell from her eyes, as she ran toward the body.

" Dad!" She cried out and proceeded to take off the sheet. The doctors and nurses were fast enough to stop her. With tears in her eyes, she forcefully tore away from their grip. But before she could touch him, she was stopped and broke down in tears.

At that moment, she felt like her world crumbled. She lived the rest of her life in regret, as she blamed herself for also being the reason he had to die. She thought that if she hadn't called her father that morning, his death would have been avoided.

She thought of leaving her mother and starting a new life somewhere else but decided that it wasn't the best idea.

Her father did die and she did not want to accept but it was the truth. The fall had affected him greatly. Although no one knew what had killed him, she still blames her mother and herself for causing his sudden death.

His death changed her. Transformed her from a sweet, cheerful, and adoring girl to an arrogant, stubborn, and miserable teen. Her perspective of life changed.

Her mother kept trying to talk to her but she never wanted to listen to her. Her mother made her who she currently was and should be ready to live with that fact.

Picking herself from her sitting position, Emily walked to her bed. She picked up the guitar to play, but then realized how hungry she was. Her stomach grumbled and she couldn't bear it anymore.

She unlocked her door and strode down the stairs, her hand on the railing to give her support. She walked toward the dining and on the table was a plate of food. She rolled her eyes and walked right past the dining into the kitchen.

She took out a carton of milk from the refrigerator and some waffles which she microwaved. She walked to the dining and set them on the table to eat.  Her mother walked in, and seeing that Emily didn't touch the food she prepared, she felt heartbroken.

" I'll be out Emily, take care of yourself." She informed as she observed Emily's reaction for signs that she still cared.

" Yeah, whatever, go have fun with your boyfriends," Emily replied instead, while still chewing on her waffles and scrolling through her phone.

Her mother was hurt and turned to force back the tears in her eyes. She looked at Emily, gave a faint smile, and " I will be back." She said, picked up her purse, and walked out.

After her dinner, she washed her dishes and walked back to her room upstairs. Her phone buzzed and she checked it. It was a message from Charles. She opened it and it read ' I'm sorry Emily, can we meet?

She rolled her eyes and tossed the phone by the side of the bed. Massaging her temples, her eyes darted to a picture frame on the wall. She took it down, and stared at the picture, as tears fell from her eyes.

" I miss you, dad." She said and placed it on her chest. She took in a deep breath and exhaled. She was interrupted by the rat-a-tat on the door, down the stairs.

" I'm coming." She said, dropping the frame on the bed and walking back downstairs. Standing right at the door, she dressed her ruffled hair and cleaned her face.

It seemed like whoever was behind it, wasn't patient as another knock resounded in the quiet room. " Hold on." She said and opened the door. " How may I… Oh my God! Who did this to you?!" she gasped as her hand flew to her mouth.