10 Nov 2019, 04:58
Cigarette Smoke and Petrol
22ND OF NOVEMBER 2014
WEST SOUTHAMPTON, U.K.
PART ONE: THE NEWS
Gabby can remember every single detail that happened in that moment; every word, every emotion. She can play it in her head, like a movie, and watch the memory play out as if she is re-living it all over again. If someone asked, Gabby could tell them that her room was messy that day, since she'd refused to do the weekly clean on Saturday that week, and that she'd been feeling hungry at the time, because at school that day, Gabby had played an extremely exciting game of soccer, and had completely forgotten about her packed lunch.
Before her sister entered, Gabby had been slipping out of her school jumper, eager to get out of it's itchiness. She then bundled it up, and threw it across the room, so that it could join a large pile of dirty washing. But, as she did so, her elder sister Sofia entered. Gabby and Sofia had shared a bedroom ever since they were toddlers, and while Gabby never cared if the room was dirty or not, Sofia was an absolute freak about it. The state of their room was a constant sore point for the two of them, and Gabby knew Sofia wouldn't appreciate her throwing clothes around the room.
"Sorry," she said quickly, eager to escape punishment. "I'll pick it up later, promise."
Sofia didn't reply. In fact, she didn't seem to realize what Gabby had just done. Her eyes were wide, and her expression frozen. But Gabby didn't think that something was amiss until she noticed that her sister's hands were shaking, like they did when it was a cold day.
"Sofia... are you okay?" she said slowly, her eyebrows creasing in confusion and worry.
Sofia left the doorway and moved to sit down on Gabby's bed, her movements stiff and slow. She gestured with a hand for her younger sister to join her, and so the two sisters sat beside one another. Then, reaching an arm around her back, Sofia hugged her sister with one hand. At this point, Gabby was starting to worry, but lost her patience.
"What is it Sofia? Just tell me, why are you all weird?"
"Gabby - something happened at work today," Sofia said quietly, almost in a whisper. "Papa was a work today, and someone got angry at him. There was a fight, and he didn't make it. Papa is dead."
At first - there is confusion. Papa cannot be dead, how can he be dead? Her thoughts try to process what Sofia has just said, but it doesn't seem to work anymore. And the harder she tries to think, the harder her brain starts to hurt, as if she was trying to run on a strained leg. But slowly, she understands. The weight of the words sink in. She can feel Sofia's grip tightening, but the strength of the hug is distant, like her senses have been dialed down to zero. Instead, all she can hear is the sudden sound of static inside her mind, the type of sound you'd hear from a broken radio. It's all so confusing, Gabby doesn't know what to think, until her thoughts conjure up an image of her father, crinkled, weathered skin, scarred from all his work at the mechanic's shop, and curly black hair, out of control and messy, as always.
And finally, she understands. Gabby doesn't bother trying to control the tears, and leans into Sofia's shoulder when they start to leak out. After a while, she starts to sob, her nose leaking boogies onto her sister's uniform, and her eyes reddening from the suddenness of it all. The pain overwhelms her like an ocean current, and she weeps, letting the feelings take control of her body.
Last edited by Gabriela Marquez on 24 Dec 2019, 22:05, edited 4 times in total.
10 Nov 2019, 05:49
Cigarette Smoke and Petrol
PART TWO: MEMORIES OF THE PAST
Gabby's father grew up in Colombia, not moving to Southampton until he was 22 years old. His strong Spanish accent gives this away, and despite the poverty he had originated from, Sebastian had been a smart boy, earning places at schools through scholarships and funds. He then worked at a mechanics shop through his adult years, earning just enough to support his family of seven. Gabby remembered her father as smelling of petrol and cigarette smoke, one from the workplace, the other from an unfortunate habit he never managed to shake. He was rough and strong, from all the hours he had spent out in the baring sun underneath a car's hood. Gabby's finest memories of the man would always be those precious days when he took his daughter to work, showing her his tools, and patiently teaching her how to use them. She grew to love the harsh smell of petrol, and treasured those sacred days with all her heart.
These were the first thing Gabby thought of after she stopped crying. She lifted her head wearily off Sofia's shoulders, and gratefully accepted the tissue her sister passed to her.
"Have you told Sammy or Junior? Does Luis know?" she asked, her voice cracked and hoarse from crying.
"Yes," her sister replied. "Junior threw a fit at me, then he cried, and I think he's just processing now. He's only five though. I'm a bit worried about Sammy, he hasn't done anything. He just stared at me, with these blank eyes, and now he's just lying on his bed. Luis was the one who told me. He's trying to be all tough and manly, but it's obvious he's hurting."
Sofia's tone is flat and tired, and Gabby reaches down to squeeze her hand tightly. Sofia smiles at her, but Gabby knows it was no comfort. Instead, she decides the best way to help would to put her sister's mind on other things.
"Lets go then, to Sammy and Junior. We can see how they're going."
Sofia nods in agreement to the idea, and the two get up from the bed and head outside into the hallway. Usually, at this time of day, the house would be filled with the blaring sound of television being watched by the young boys, Sammy and Junior, and the clanging and banging of Gabby's mama making dinner. But it is dead silent, not a sound to be heard.
"What about Mama, how's she going?" Gabby asked, suddenly remembering.
"I don't know. Luis told me that she's not home yet. Maybe she's with some friends, so they can help her, or something like that?"
Gabby nods, and while she doesn't trust the story, she leaves it be, her mind already exhausted. She focused on her little brother's instead, heading inside their bedroom when it's opened by Sofia. They find Sammy lying on his back, staring at the ceiling from his bed, and Junior fast asleep snoring, exhausted by the events of the day.
"Hey Sammy, you okay?" Sofia asks timidly. Since she's older, and therefore is has more parental merit than Gabby, Gabby stands back to observe, letting Sofia do the talking.
"Yeah," their brother replies, his tone empty of emotion. "Just thinking."
There is silence, and just as Sofia goes to head out of the door, Gabby ready to follow, the 6-year-old speaks, quietly but firm.
"It's broken now. It's broken and we're missing a piece now."
"What's broken?" Gabby asked, dreading the answer.
"We are," he replied. "Nuestra familia es. Our family is."