Cholo

(30)Treinta

Grief's four stages are rumbustious. Its an impulsive approach towards the death of a loved one; it's hard to predict which of the four stages would hit you first. Maybe, you'll first feel denial. A mental and emotional shut down of feelings, like standing alone in a room with no sound but the sound of breath; numbness. That's how it would feel. Not as in shocked where your breath is knocked out of your lungs, but the type that leaves you standing there unable to react or process reality. And then like the flick of a switch, you're lunging towards the dead body, grasping it and shaking it. A hysterical maniac attempting to raise the dead. Refusing to believe reality. That this person isn't going to come back. Shriveled on a bed, cold and lifeless. Or, maybe depression comes first. Or, anger. Throwing accusations and blaming anyone in sight. Sometimes, you would even blame yourself. But it would always end with acceptance. The circle of life, it begins and ends, like day and night.

Maybe it isn't rumbustious after all.

Her teeth grazed her bottom lip and glared at the steaming cup of coffee as she endured an inner turmoil. Maria's scrubs were hanging on the door, the edges crisp and the smell of detergent was guarantied to infuriate her nose once she threw it on. But what bothered her wasn't the laundry detergent, nor the prospect of starting work, no, it's the fact that death seems to cling to the people she cherished. Its the antagonist, they could never get rid off.

She sighed, loudly, and almost scoffed at condolence text she had sent to Monse. For a moment Freeridge was silent. There wasn't a sound. Not a siren wailing, not the echo of guns shooting, or the blasting of music. Nada. Maria wasn't aware that she was peering outside the window, until the sound of her abuela speaking drew her out of her withdrawal.

"The magic of dawn." A soft smile crinkled her wrinkled face and lit up her brown orbs.

Maria smiled, and dipped her head, slightly.

The elder lady patted the back of her granddaughter. "Mija, no estés preocupada, todo se arreglará [Don't worry, darling, everything will work out]."

"¿Estás seguro? [Are you sure?]" She muttered into the cup.

There was the sound of clattering plates and shuffling of feet before the elder woman spoke again. She didn't pat the back of her granddaughter, or reply with a soothing phrase; she merely laughed as she sat next to the younger woman. "It always does."

"What if it doesn't?" Her lips pressed into a thin line.

The elder woman sighed.

- C H O L O -

The hospital was as hectic as usual, but to Maria it felt slow and faded. She walked smoothly through the chaotic rush and the scent of Iodoform that she used to associate with calmness, now bothered her, so she crinkled her nose. Her brunette hair was tied into a tight braid, not a single strand of hair stuck out. She felt her cheeks heat up at the stares thrown her way from strangers. She knew exactly why they were staring and why the girl with bangs gave her a glare and tightened her hold on her boyfriend. Due to her pregnancy, her cup size had increased and now her breasts were fuller and her scrubs were uncomfortably tight. The v-neck of the scrubs did not help at all; it only made her tug her under shirt higher.

The younger mother bit her tongue as she struggled under the pressure of the stares. Her mind began to wonder what they thought which only angered her. Her body felt hot and she was sure her cheeks were flushed red. She gulped. Fucking hormones.

A lanky blonde college posed next to her. "Stop glaring at the girl." He mockingly nudged her.

Maria looked flabbergasted as she blinked repeatedly, before dumbly asking, "what?"

Jaime, a thirty year-old nurse, smiled cheekily. "You haven't broken eye contact with that girl," he titled his head towards the girl with bangs, "and if looks could kill.."

"I wasn't." Her reply was too haughtily for her liking which only seemed to amuse her college. She blew out an exaggerated sigh. "What do you want, Jaime?"

His eyes scanned her face and when their eyes met, Maria could've swore she saw pity, or was it worry. The latina's lips pursed into a thin light. "You should cover the desk shift." He shrugged as he stared intently at his fidgeting fingers.

A scoff left her lips. "Just cause I gave birth doesn't mean I'm fragile." It sounded venomous, and she almost winced at her tone.

"No, no," his eyes were wide with his arms flailing frantically before him, "you look exhausted that's all!"

Her shoulder sunk as tears welled into her eyes. Fucking Hormones. She sniffed and muttered a quick apology before turning and heading towards the desk. Maria slumped onto the brown rolling chair and quickly pulled out her phone - she flicked through cute pictures and videos of Mateo and suddenly found herself missing his wailing. A pat on her shoulder, started her and she visibly jumped. A chuckle came from her right, with her palm placed onto her heart and she turned wide-eyed at an elder nurse. The nurse's laughter died down. Her voice sounded soothing, reminding Maria of the sound of calming waves as she spoke: "You'll miss him even when he's forty and you're grey and old."

It didn't help her aching heart, but it made her smile.

___________________

I know short chapter and nothing really happened.. AND IT TOOK FORVER. I'm sorry :(

___________________
*Spanish is not one of the languages I speak, I know some phrases and such; but I was mainly using the internet and google translate- please notify me of any errors.*

___________________
This is purely a fan fiction.

I do not own "On My Block" or any of it's characters all rights are reserved/belong to Netflix. The plot and story of the series belong to Jeremy Haft, Eddie Gonzalez, and Lauren Lungerich. Directed by Lauren Lungerich. As such all claims are reserved to Netflix, and those listed prior to this sentence.

I only own characters that do not appear on/part of the series.