Chapter 6
I lie there, numb. The tears came and went, and now I feel nothing. Apart from guilt. I'm guilty, and it's all my fault that abuelo died.
If I'd been there. If I'd gone with mama. If I'd helped more. It's all my fault. I'm a terrible person. And I don't deserve to live.
I just make life worse for everyone. Dad is right. I'm useless. Worthless.
Why am I still here? Why?
School. I can hardly face the idea, let alone the reality. I probably wouldn't have even gotten up this morning, let alone left the house, if it wasn't for mama. She understood. Lucía had gone to Brittney's house soon after I went to my room, and dad had never really liked abuelo, so he didn't get it. Mama had come into my room at midnight last night, and, having heard my crying, curled up next to me, and we slept like that, the tears slowly drying on our faces.
I sit at the table, eating my cereal. It's just plain mush to me. Everything is plain. The sky is grey and overcast, and the first spots of rain are falling.
I see mama walk into the kitchen. She doesn't look any better than I imagine I do. Her hair is an utter mess, and she's dressed in a bathrobe. Her usually gorgeous face is almost grey. She looks terrible.
'Buenos dias, mama.' I say.
'Buenos dias, mija.' she replies. This isn't how I imagined mama's return. I'd pictured something happier, not abuelo's death. Oh god. Abuela. Jeez, how must she be holding up? Her husband died. It must be bad enough for mama, but abuela? Before I can stop myself, I blurt out
'¿Cómo está la abuela? Quiero decir, ¿ella está bien? ¿Alguien está pendiente de ella?'
(How is grandma doing? I mean, is she ok? Is anyone looking out for her?)
'Mija, la abuela está bien. Tiene a su amiga, Amada, cuidándola. No necesitas preocuparte.'
(Darling, grandma is ok. She has her friend, Amada, looking out for her. You don't need to worry.)
But I don't believe her. Abuelo is- was- such an amazing person, and to lose him? Especially if he's your husband? God, I can't even imagine what it must be like for her.
'Mija, is time for school. See you after.'
'Adios, mama.' I say. 'Te amo.'
'English, mija!' she calls out after me, but there's a smile on her face. Maybe I will make it through today after all.
Or not. When I arrive at school, one look around reminds me of even more negatives in my life. Lucía sobbing to her friends, all though I can tell it's fake because no tears are coming out. She would never risk ruining her perfect make up this early in the day.
Katie Green and her perfect friends that are perfectly fine with being labelled 'uncool.'
Silvia Soltai and the popular girls gossiping about some poor soul- the rumours will for sure be spread all over the school before the bell rings.
Rocco Rodriguez and his mates, laughing while being completely unaware of the spell bound girls watching them, practically drooling. I sit at my bench, head down, almost to my lap. Tears cloud my vision, and the black mist returns, yet again. I'll never be good enough. Imperfect, never measuring up. Dad will never love me, and I'll never see abuelo again. I sink my fingernails into my skin. I deserve the pain. Why can't I be perfect like everyone else? Why can't I be normal? Why-
'Sofía!' I look up, and see Caitlin through my tear laden eyelashes. 'Oh, god, what's wrong?' she says. I immediately clench my hand over my scratched wrist. She shouldn't have to deal with my problems.
'Just- just a bit overwhelmed.' I lie.
'Oh, what about?' she says, sitting next to me and placing an arm over my shoulders.
'Just-' I wave my hands around. 'Everything.'
'That's me too, sometimes.' she says. 'Just remember, it's all going to get better someday.'
'Thanks.' I reply. Without knowing it, she's given me the exact advice she would if I told her what was actually going on. I fake a smile.'We have art, let's go.' I say, and she pulls me off the bench, laughing.
'Wait, I forgot to do the homework! Oh god, Ms. Andino's gonna kill me...' I smile. Ms. Andino is a Greek lady that seems to explicitly hate Caitlin. I don't know why, but she does. We run off to art, and the tiniest ghost of a smile crosses my face.
How is it that a few minutes ago, I was sinking my nails into my skin, and now I'm smiling?
"You're just confused." The black mist makes it way back, and I slow down.
'Sofía?' says Caitlin.
"And now your best friend knows you're a freak. Why are you burdening her with your existence? Why are you burdening everyone? You don't deserve to live. Go and-'
'Sofía, are you ok?!' Caitlin says. I look up. Somehow, without realising it, I've doubled over, and am clutching my stomach. Slowly, I realise myself.
'Yeah- I just don't feel very well.' I say.
'OK. Look, Sofía, I'm kinda worried about you. You've seemed really sad lately, and I-'
No. Nononononononononononono. She can't find out my secret.
'I'm fine!' I say. 'I just... feel sick. I think I need a day at home.'
'OK, well do you want me to walk you to the nurse's office?'
'No, I'm fine! I can walk by myself!'
'Well, then, see you tomorrow?' she says.
'Yep!' I say, in a false bright voice. But as soon as I'm around the corner, I start running, the tears returning yet again. I ground to a halt outside of the office, and wipe my face until it's dry. Once I'm satisfied that I look normal, I walk in.
'Miss. Avirez- Kelly. What a surprise seeing you here.' The office lady says.
'Hi, miss. Um, I'm not feeling very well. Could you sign me out? I'll email my mum to tell her I'm going home, but I can walk.'
'Ok, but can't you just call your mum?'
'I'm sorry, miss, but she doesn't have a phone.' Slight shock crosses her face, before she shakes her head, and smiles.
'Well, I'll need to see this email- just make sure it's genuine. You have no clue how many students try to bunk off school.'
'Yes, miss.' I say, and write an email to my mum in Spanish on my laptop
"Hola mamá. Por favor, ¿podría imprimir el archivo adjunto? Lo necesitaré mañana para un proyecto escolar, y todas las impresoras de la escuela están rotas.
Gracias, Sofía."
(Hi mum. Please could you print out the attached file for me? I'll need it tomorrow for a school project, and all the printers at school are broken.
Thanks, Sofía.)
The office lady can't speak Spanish, so after looking confused at what must appear as gibberish, she asks me to translate it for her.
'Sure. It says "Hi mum, I'm coming home early today, because I don't feel well. Just wanted you to know. Thanks, Sofía."'
'OK, thanks, Miss Avirez- Kelly. You can go now.'
So I walk out the school doors to a day of freedom.
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