Excerpt of the story:
"My uncle used to say Hades left the Underworld for Persephone, and I thought how stupid was that, like why would he leave for a girl? And I think I finally got why he did it." His eyebrows furrow, making him appear deep in his...
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κοιμισμένος (Asleep)
"Tío! Tío! What the hell happened?" I panted after running from the parking lot to where Tío Mateo stood. My heart was beating so fast, and I was extremely exhausted, rushing from the airport to the hospital.
Tío Mateo said something to the nurse he was talking to, then turns to me. He pats my back, when he explains, "They found something in her drink. She was supposed to take her medication, but she took too many, and it..." He sighs, "It wasn't her medicine that she took that many of, it's opioids, Rio. They say she probably took it because..." He trails off not completing his sentence.
Because what was there to complete? Lucia wanted to commit suicide, she wanted to die, she overdosed on drugs, and now...
"Lo siento. Lo mejor que podemos hacer ahora es esperar." The doctor tells us. (I'm sorry. The best we can do now, is to wait.)
The opioids in her system inhibited the central nervous system, and during the overdose, her body experiences CNS depression, causing her breathing rate to decrease, her heart rate to slow down, and losing her consciousness in the process, in Lucia's case, it led her to a coma.
I look at her through the glass window. She's asleep with her white silky hair fanned across the pillow. She looks much paler than she usually was, and that says a lot considering her skin condition. There's an IV attached to her hand, with the heart rate monitor by her side. I try, I try so hard not to be pessimistic, because at least she's alive, her heart's still beating, there's still hope, but when I see just Tío Mateo and me here in the hospital with her, the anger in me is on the verge of exploding.
Where the fuck are our parents? They should be here. Lucia was their daughter.
Tío Mateo looks at me, and I make a decision there and then.
"Voy a abrir mi propia galería." (I'm going to open my own gallery.)
"With Abuelo's trust fund?" He asked.
"No. Well, partially. Mr. Alexander told me there's a competition coming up soon. If I win, there's a certificate. I met an agent who liked my work. He said that the certificate would be my final ticket to opening my own place."
Tío nods, "Whatever you need, I'll help you. Go back Rio, I'll take care of her."
We don't talk about the possibility of Lucia wanting to die, to leave us, we just look silently at her peaceful figure, where she didn't need to worry about the stupid dead dove, the hurtful words, the expectations she wanted to meet so badly.
Once this competition is over, and hopefully, with all my soul and heart, hopefully I get that certificate, I'll be able to bring her here, free her from her past, free her from our parents.
