who ;; @bellamy-sd when ;; winter 2010 where ;; hector’s home
rafaella was gone. it was all he had heard that day. over and over again as though they were trying to pierce it into his heart. his love, the person who taught him gentleness, the one who showed him what it meant to belong to someone, was no longer around. in his mind, this meant that he would never speak to her again. that she wanted to leave him. but why would he ever think that someone so good, someone who he thought would love him unconditionally, would leave? the only other person in his life who was meant to love him no matter what didn’t. she was comatose on the couch. staring at the wall and pretending he didn’t exist.
it wasn’t his fault he had his father’s eyes. it wasn’t his fault he died. so why was he being punished for it?
he walked into his home and saw her sitting on her chair, looking out at the street. she didn’t acknowledge him. she never acknowledged him. “mamá?” he asked, his voice breaking, tears already coming to his eyes. “mamá, i didn’t have a good day.” he walked over to her and nudged her shoulder a bit. “please? can you look at me? i need you.” the first and last time he would ever admit something so bold. so vulnerable. “mamá,” he felt like a child, crying his mother’s name like this. but he had never felt so alone. and is that not a mother’s job? to make him feel like he’ll never be alone? his hands start to shake as her expression doesn’t change, an anger bubbling in his chest as he looked around the house. kept perfectly clean by him and him alone.
“will you look at me now, mamá?” he said as he bolted over to a vase, slamming it on the ground and watching it break into a million pieces. “now?” and then did the same to a bookcase, pushing it down. he destroyed the rest of the house. the kitchen, everything. their home was not large, from her vantage point, had she turned around, she would have seen everything. “look at me!” he yelled now, curling over with his arms over his stomach, tears replacing anger yet again as he sobbed alone in the middle of his livingroom. surrounded by the remnants of his anger. “please! i’m your son. please.”
