Without You: A Story about Pedro Madrigal's Life

Goodbye, Mi Amor

It was a long journey by foot, but he kept going. He had his wife and his three kids with him, the loves of his life; Julieta, Bruno, Pepa, and his beautiful wife, Alma. They looked so safe and happy in their mother's arms, sleeping peacefully in the warm embrace. He didn't know how anyone could sleep through this, but that didn't stop them. He carefully patted each one of their heads, careful not to hurt their fragile structures in his hands.

There was a small pond out in front of them. Since he was at the front of the large exodus, he went first to make sure it wasn't too deep. It was hard to tell in the dark that it was very shallow until he stepped in. That's when everyone's worries ceased to exist, but that was only for a small moment. For from the back of the group he heard a scream of pure terror.

The monsters had followed them, the monsters that had chased them out of their homes. In the utter chaos of it all, his wife froze, but he couldn't afford to do the same. He quickly took the kids in his hand and pleaded with her. "Alma, please, come with me, Mi Amor," he said softly, almost at a whisper.

"No," she said with finality. "They're not going to stop until they've caught someone. "I'm staying." No words had ever hurt more than those two.

"Alma," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Please, come with us."

"Te quiero, Pedro, te quiero." She pushed him away, telling him to run as fast as he could with her children, and he did just that. He hated himself so much.

Go back. Go back. GO BACK. Those words rang in his head like a siren in his brain, but he just kept running, telling himself that she wanted this. He was careful to shield his now crying kids from the branches that were in harm's way. He had to keep running for Alma and them.

He finally stopped. Nobody had been following him for a while now. The adrenaline was fading, and his heart was broken. He fell from exhaustion and the pain, both of which were unbearable. His Alma was gone. She was- no he can't think like that. She couldn't be gone, but he knew she was. The thing that hurt most was that it was his fault. He had done this to her. He had killed her. He was left alone because of his own actions.

He forgot about the candle in his hand, but it was now fading, about to leave him in the darkness. He had nowhere to go, and he had three kids to care of by himself, now. Tears fell down his cheeks, and he set the candle down, using it as a fire to warm him up on the windy night. It was pathetic.

One last tear fell on the candle, and he was sure he had done it. That it was finally going to go out, but instead it burned brighter. It got taller, and the flame turned to a beautiful gold. He stared in awe as the warmth surrounded him.

A floor stretched out from underneath him, underneath the candle, and walls built themselves from the floor up. There were some stairs that led to another floor, windows that showed the night sky outside. He felt like a huge weight had lifted off his chest, and he sniffed, swallowed hard, wiped his tears, and stood up with the small amount of dignity he had left.

He had a house... no, he had a casita, a home, filled with all the love he needed from his 3 children, Pepa, Bruno, and Julieta.