Deadly Secrets

Chapter Three (An Argument With Father)

Later that day, my mother visited me with a big surprise. Tickets to the movie theater! I know it might sound stupid and childish of me to get this excited for going to see some movie but lets face it, I don't have a life and I'm just six years old.

I then hugged my mother tightly and kissed her against her cheek. She then smiled brightly and laughed.

"Gracias mamá!" ("Thanks mom!") I told her as i hugged her tighter. I then let go and held the tickets in front of me to examine them. We were going to see Shrek 2. I then hugged my mother again but this time much tighter than before. I remembered how I continuously begged her to go see the movie for days, perhaps weeks, but she will always nod and say nothing. Perhaps it was because of the stress and this dumb disease.

I then let go of her and examined the tickets again to make sure if this was real. It was. I then noticed something. There were only two tickets. Two! There's suppose to be three! One for me, mother and father. Where's father's!

"¡Mamá! Creo que se te cayó el billete de papá!" ("Mom! I think you dropped dad's ticket!") I yelled disappointingly. I placed the tickets on the bed and got down and searched the area on my bed. There's nothing!

'Maybe it's under the bed!' I looked under the bed and felt around the space. Still nothing!

'I know! It's probably on the floor somewhere!" I then scanned around the floor to see if that one ticket is there. Nothing!

"¡Afuera! Mamá, ven conmigo a mirar si está allí! ¡Rápido!" ("Outside! Mom, come with me to look if it's there! Hurry!") I then ran toward the door.

"Alto," ("Stop,") My mother demanded. I then stopped and turned around to face her. Her face was dark now, not bright like it was a minute ago. I then opened my mouth to protest but then stopped as soon as I saw her eyes get wet.

"Por favor siéntate, Kevin," ("Please sit, Kevin,") She told me with a mournful tone. I obeyed and walked slowly back to my bed and sat next to her. I waited patiently for her to tell me what's wrong. I saw her struggle inside to tell me. She was afraid to do so. Afraid that I might get sad.

"Kevin ... Tu padre ... Mira está muy ocupado ... Y él ... no puede venir ..." ("Kevin ... Your father ... See he's busy ... And he ... Cannot come ...") She then quickly turned her head away, avoiding to see my disappointment.

"¿Qué? Papá no vendrá? ¿Por qué?" ("What? Dad is not coming? How come?") I asked madly. My mother slowly looked into my eyes and saw how I was furious. She then bursted into tears saying sorry over and over again. I paid no attention to her. I had better things to do than to watch her cry. I got up and walked towards the phone, ignoring my mothers cries for me to come back and sit. I picked up the phone and dialed my father's emergency number. That would show him.

Two seconds later he answered, "Estoy en mi camino!" ("I'm on my way!") he yelled quickly.

"Papá, soy yo, Kevin. No hay emergencia." ("Dad, it's me, Kevin. There is no emergency.")

"¿Qué? Kevin, usted sabe que este teléfono es sólo para emergencias. Ahora estoy muy-" ("What? Kevin, you know that this phone is for emergencies only. Now I'm really-")

"¿Por qué no vas a venir, papá?" ("Why are you not coming, dad?")

Dead Silence.

"¿Por qué no vas a venir, papá?" ("Why are you not coming, dad?") I repeated frustratedly.

"Kevin, por favor, no empieces. Tú sabes que yo estoy trabajando y si no trabajo entonces no voy a poder encontrar una cura para ti. Sólo agra-" ("Kevin, please don't start. You know I'm working and if I don't work then I wont be able to find a cure for you. Just apprec-")

"Entonces lo que está tratando de decir es que tu trabajo es mucho más importante que yo?" ("So what you are trying to say is that your work is much more important than me?")

"No, hijo. Yo no quise decir es-." ("No, son. I didn't mean th-")

"No, usted quise decir eso, papá." ("No, you did mean that, dad.")

"Hijo, por favor déjame expli-." ("Son, just please let me exp-")

"No hay necesidad de explicar, papá. Yo sé lo que estás diciendo." ("There is no need for explaining, dad. I know what you are saying.")

"No, tu no sab-." ("No, you don't kn-")

"Sí, lo sé, pa-." ("Yes, I do, da-")

"No, tu no sabes, Kevin! ¡Está bien! Estoy aquí tratando de encontrar una cura para salvarte. Todavía hay esperanza, hijo mío!" ("No, you don't, Kevin! Okay! I am right here trying to find a cure to save you. There is still hope, son!")

"Ya no hay esperanza, papá! ¡Está bien! Ellos me cortaron! Dijeron que sólo tengo unas seis semanas! Sólo rinda, papá! Me voy a morir!" ("There is no more hope, dad! Okay! They cut me off! They said I just have about six weeks! Just give up, dad! I'm going to die!")

"No te atrevas a decir eso, Kevin! No te vas a morir! Ahora vete con tu madre a ver la película!" ("Don't you dare say that, Kevin! You are not going to die! Now go with your mother to see the movie!")

"Papá, yo quiero que te vayas con nosotros!" ("Dad, I want you to go with us!")

"No tengo tiempo para hacer cosas tan tontas!" ("I don't have time to do such foolish things!") I stayed on the other line silently crying as he said this. He must have heard me.

"No, hijo. Lo sie-." ("No, son. I'm sor-") I hung up the phone. It then began to rang. I ended the call. It ranged again. I then disconnected the cord and threw the phone out the window.

"Kevin! ¿Qué pasa contigo" ("Kevin! What's wrong with you!") My mother asked me furiously. She then got up from the bed and came towards me. Smack! She slapped me. I turned to face her and touched my nose. I then held my fingers up and examined them. There was warm blood on them. I then looked coldly into my mothers eyes. She started to cry once again.

"Kevin, lo sie-." ("Kevin, I'm sor-") I then grabbed her hand and lead her towards the door. I opened it violently and let go of her hand.

"Fuera de aquí." ("Get out.") I said coldly. She then reached her hand out to touch my face. I quickly slapped it away.

"Fuera de aquí." ("Get out.") I repeated. She did not move. Frustratedly, I pushed her out with all my six year old force. I quickly shut the door and locked it.

"Kevin. Por favor, déjame entrar" ("Kevin. Please, let me in.") She said in a voice quietly that I can only hear. I stayed quite and put my back against the door and placed my hands on my eyes. I sank down the floor and began to cry.

I kept on hearing my mother's soft knocks against the door and her quite pleads for her to come in. I then got up from where I was sitting and grabbed the tickets from the bed. I began to tear them into small pieces and returned to my spot. I bent down and pushed the pieces of paper under the door and sat back down folding my arms around my legs and placing my head against them.

My mother's weeping began to get louder and so did mine. I placed my hands against my ears and tried to ignore her weeping. It just made me feel horrible when hearing her cry like this. It's all because of this misery. This hospital. This world. This life. But most of all, this disease.