CHAPTER 1
you realize how boring your life is when a story can completely upset her.
3 DAYS BEFORE - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA - H. 3:00 AM ring ring
I awoke with a start, suddenly frightening by the ringing of the phone.
looked irritated the alarm, who the hell called at 3 am?
For a second I thought I'd let it ring, not to give anyone the satisfaction to see that I was home, and then I had no social life on Saturday night, but that sound, annoying as ever, made me think again.
sigh, I lifted the phone and did not have the time to say anything that the other voice he began to speak. Is cold and methodical I have not heard from many, many years.
"Emma are you? I hope this is still the right number. I am Mara, your sister, I'm not hear to make turns of phrase. You have to go straight home, Dad died of a heart attack a few hours ago.
Do not worry about the funeral, we will deal with all of us, but would welcome your presence, if possible by tomorrow. "
Empty, my mind was blank, and I could not even breathe.
If it was a joke was the worst, the most vicious and the most tasteless never thought a person.
"What?" I managed to mumble his voice choked with shock.
"Emma, but are you? Do you understand what I said? You have to go. "The tone was increasingly impatient.
worry about the funeral? How could you think that was what my first thought? He expected an answer, I imagined the other side of the phone to beat rhythmically his foot.
'It is a joke? " my voice was a little back, but I could not think straight, his head felt heavy and foggy.
"It's not a joke. Tomorrow you have to be here for 4:30 pm, we have a family meeting to decide what to do. And now I'm sorry but I must go. "Tuc.
I found myself in a dark room with the phone in his hand that sounded empty, amid a silence that was crushing me inside.
My father.
It was not possible, he was strong, he was the one responsible, no smoke, no alcohol, no vices ...
I could not imagine it, and besides the pain now added a sense of guilt for never having gone to visit in any year after my transfer.
I hated that place so I had only sent a few postcards or made a few phone calls to the most important occasions, and now I regret it completely.
I should have come back, because the good daughters do so, I'm in the right place at the right time, and they say the right thing at the right time.
"Hey, love, who was on the phone? It 'a life that I'm waiting in bed. "
His voice startled me, as I was taken by my gloomy thoughts. I looked dazed, and he noticed my eyes sparkle in the darkness.
"What is happened? Who was on the phone? Emma? "His voice was alarmed, it was a nice boy, he wanted me too well, much more than they deserved. I burst into tears, the reality of the situation I was pouring on me like a sea of boiling lava.
'It's Father, I come back. "I could only say between sobs.
- -
"Ben came Emma, you have only 2 days late ..." a voice exclaimed sarcastically.
I looked up to heaven, I had not quite crossed the threshold of that house that already her voice shrill snob and I came to the ears. The
voice for years and years I was persecuted, ordered perfection just to brush my teeth.
My first instinct was to turn round on his heel and go back to my real home, Los Angeles, but the thought of my father forced me to take a deep breath and calm down.
"I did what I was able to Erica." I answered rudely.
annoyed were the only little "sweeteners" that I could take with her.
"Do not call me Eric, how many times do I repeat?! And go to greet the guests, but now the figure of the beggar you've already done. "She said scornfully. Feeling
talk like that more abrupt and made me go back to when I was a little naive and insecure girl, I tried to shake this horrible feeling and ignore the words of my mother.
I went into the living room, and as I expected it was full of faces semi sconociuti who exchanged whispered words laden with sadness calculated.
While watching them, lost in my thoughts, one by one began to notice me and their faces became more contrite.
A part of me made me see that they were good to play these bigots, and how well does not really give a shit less about anything that's why were all gathered there. Who knows what the rumors were
most popular, certainly have to do with the fact that the "mad daughter of Jack Mullen" was back in town 10 years after it escaped, only to his father's funeral. "
But another part realized that the situation was real, it was just a nightmare or a bad image. The tears began again to nip behind the eyes, and I used almost all my self-control to prevent me from crying in front of all these strangers.
"Oh, Cava, addolovatissima are for your pevdita, Jack eva gvande a man," said one of these old bourgeois affectation laid his hand on his shoulder.
I wondered if he did it on purpose or was it really pavlave r dull. I nodded contrite, I hated the situation much, my breaking point I felt it was closer.
"You're just vivified Vevo Cava? I do not sembva pvopvio Vevo that scompavso the altvo ievi I had seen so enevgico! "
continued the woman, who seemed more determined than ever not to let more go. I continued to nod, trying to smile politely, but more than a smile looked like a grimace of pain.
After a few hours I'd had enough of being among those people who did not know any way my father, but nevertheless continued to weave his praises.
In addition, the sight of the ice to my sister (a photocopy of my mother) who pretended to cry, when the phone seemed almost annoyed to bother my father's funeral, was unbearable.
managed to escape from that room and take refuge in the back of the house.
Maybe it was not a good idea. I had forgotten that when I was little I always went there to hide from Erica, just behind the well, and spent the time to imagine all the things I wanted to do but I could never even dream into reality. And when my father
I was looking for, knowing at the start of being there, but pretending not to see me so that I could still leave some time to myself ...
not even realize that I knew I had begun to cry. And I stood there, alone with myself and with my pain, that no one else could understand.
0 comments:
Post a Comment