Rude Awakening
There are certain mistakes in life that, try as we might, cannot ever be corrected, and the only thing that we can possibly do to compensate for these is to continue on living our lives the best way we can. Here is my first short story! Please be gentle!!! :-P
He felt his knees buckled under him as the doctor emerged from the emergency room and told him the bad news. His father suffered from a heart attack, and died instantly without giving him a chance to say "goodbye" and "I love you." Or rather, "I'm sorry."
His whole body quivered, shaking in frenzy as tears started flowing down his cheeks. With the weight of unparalleled sorrow and guilt on his shoulders, he slumped onto the couch in the waiting room, his head buried in his folded arms as he cried his heart out.
Just a few hours ago, his father was still very much alive, with no sign of breathing difficulties, chest pains, or any health deterioration. As a matter of fact, the fifty-year-old man was giving off another lengthy sermon about his poor performance in school with his usual low, resonant voice. Being the typical teenager who didn't want his parents to mind his own business, he answered back with a glare and a frown, "Look Dad, this is MY life we're talking about! I've got the right to run it the way I want to!" And with that, he stormed out of his dad's leather-scented library and stomped his way into his own room. Just as he was about to wallow in anger and brood over what just happened, he heard a slight gasp, a low, painful moan, and finally, a loud thud on the marble floor in the living room just across his. His heart skipped a beat. What the hell? Can it be....
He opened the door, and before his mind could register the fact that he just saw his dad on the floor, clutching his wildly heaving chest in pain, he saw his mom frantically dialing 911 on the telephone and shouting for help.
He didn't mean to shout at his father like that, nor did he mean to say those horrible things, he miserably thought as he looked up to see his bereaved mother weeping beside him, her sobs muffled by the handkerchief she held against her face. Guilt suddenly washed over him like a wave hurling itself on rocks. If only he knew that that moment was going to be his father's last...
If only...hell, if only I didn't shout at him, then maybe this wouldn't have happened!!!
The truth was, he hated himself for not being able to do anything that his parents would be proud of. That's why when his father clearly showed his disappointment and unintentionally wounded his ego by holding a long scolding session, anger somehow sparked inside him, and before he could even realize, he blurted out the things that shouldn't be said--things that he knew were uncalled for. But even if he realized that he had just committed a grave mistake, he knew it's already too late. Time never turns back; it just goes straight ahead, no matter what happens.
Heaving a sigh, he turned his body so that his back was now facing the couch, and then mustering his remaining strength, he stood up, sat on the couch, and hugged his mother tightly, as if wanting to offer her the warmth that even he himself had already lost.
What was he to do now? How can his father forgive him if he couldn't even say sorry to him anymore? He'd have to carry this guilt with him for the rest of his life.
He let go of his mom only to take hold of her shoulders. "Mom, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! This is all my fault! I hurt his feelings, so much that this had happened to him. I killed him!!! What can I possibly do to make up for the terrible thing I've done?"
His mother's bloodshot eyes suddenly softened. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, and said softly, "No...it's not your fault. You didn't know this would happen, and everyone of us is entitled to commit mistakes."
"But what I did was unforgivable. Perhaps the only thing that I can do is--"
"Listen to me. If you would always mope about the mistake that you've done, you'd end up ruining your life, and I'm sure your father wouldn't want to see that happen. You can make up for your mistake by making the best out of your life. Study hard, reach for your goals, be successful, put life to years, and surely, your dad would be very happy and proud. Ending your life is not the answer; it'll just make matters worse. We have to accept the fact, even if it hurts, and move on, so that we could continue living the good life your father had intended for us."
"Mom...thank you." For the first time today, the lad smiled wholeheartedly. I'm sorry Dad, for saying those things to you. I never mean those words. In fact, I wanted you to know that I'm so glad that no matter how busy you are, you can still spare some time to see how I'm doing in class. If you can hear me and find it in your heart to forgive me, please give me a sign. I love you.
He locked himself inside his father's library the moment he and his mother came home. He sat on the leather chair and rested his head on the desk where the middle-aged man do some of his paperwork. Somehow, his father's scent still lingered there. Opening one of the drawers, he drew out a hard-bound leather notebook which he never actually saw before. With sheer curiosity, he opened it and realized that it was his father's diary.
"I didn't know Dad writes..." Suddenly, his eyes flew wide open. The entry was dated just yesterday, and at the near bottom of the page, his father wrote: I know how much my son hates it if I scold him about something. He thinks that he is but a disappointment for me, yet that's not true. I'm sure that someday he'll understand that I only do this because I know that he can do better, that he is capable of doing great things. Most of all, it's because I love him and want the best for him. No matter what happens, that'll never change...
Finally, he thought as his eyes brimmed with tears, I'm forgiven.
Note: Yay! Finally it's done! Actually, I thought about this storyline when I was in ADMU taking the guidance test that's required of all freshmen. You see, in the 2d part of the exam, the examiner showed us six different black-and-white pictures, and we were to come up with stories based on how we saw and interpreted them. We were given only a damndening TWO MINUTES to fabricate a story for each picture. So basically, I thought about this plotline on the spur of the moment! I know the story's kind of 'cliche-ish,' but well, I really wanted to see this one written on my blog. Hope it isn't that horrible.
He felt his knees buckled under him as the doctor emerged from the emergency room and told him the bad news. His father suffered from a heart attack, and died instantly without giving him a chance to say "goodbye" and "I love you." Or rather, "I'm sorry."
His whole body quivered, shaking in frenzy as tears started flowing down his cheeks. With the weight of unparalleled sorrow and guilt on his shoulders, he slumped onto the couch in the waiting room, his head buried in his folded arms as he cried his heart out.
Just a few hours ago, his father was still very much alive, with no sign of breathing difficulties, chest pains, or any health deterioration. As a matter of fact, the fifty-year-old man was giving off another lengthy sermon about his poor performance in school with his usual low, resonant voice. Being the typical teenager who didn't want his parents to mind his own business, he answered back with a glare and a frown, "Look Dad, this is MY life we're talking about! I've got the right to run it the way I want to!" And with that, he stormed out of his dad's leather-scented library and stomped his way into his own room. Just as he was about to wallow in anger and brood over what just happened, he heard a slight gasp, a low, painful moan, and finally, a loud thud on the marble floor in the living room just across his. His heart skipped a beat. What the hell? Can it be....
He opened the door, and before his mind could register the fact that he just saw his dad on the floor, clutching his wildly heaving chest in pain, he saw his mom frantically dialing 911 on the telephone and shouting for help.
He didn't mean to shout at his father like that, nor did he mean to say those horrible things, he miserably thought as he looked up to see his bereaved mother weeping beside him, her sobs muffled by the handkerchief she held against her face. Guilt suddenly washed over him like a wave hurling itself on rocks. If only he knew that that moment was going to be his father's last...
If only...hell, if only I didn't shout at him, then maybe this wouldn't have happened!!!
The truth was, he hated himself for not being able to do anything that his parents would be proud of. That's why when his father clearly showed his disappointment and unintentionally wounded his ego by holding a long scolding session, anger somehow sparked inside him, and before he could even realize, he blurted out the things that shouldn't be said--things that he knew were uncalled for. But even if he realized that he had just committed a grave mistake, he knew it's already too late. Time never turns back; it just goes straight ahead, no matter what happens.
Heaving a sigh, he turned his body so that his back was now facing the couch, and then mustering his remaining strength, he stood up, sat on the couch, and hugged his mother tightly, as if wanting to offer her the warmth that even he himself had already lost.
What was he to do now? How can his father forgive him if he couldn't even say sorry to him anymore? He'd have to carry this guilt with him for the rest of his life.
He let go of his mom only to take hold of her shoulders. "Mom, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! This is all my fault! I hurt his feelings, so much that this had happened to him. I killed him!!! What can I possibly do to make up for the terrible thing I've done?"
His mother's bloodshot eyes suddenly softened. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, and said softly, "No...it's not your fault. You didn't know this would happen, and everyone of us is entitled to commit mistakes."
"But what I did was unforgivable. Perhaps the only thing that I can do is--"
"Listen to me. If you would always mope about the mistake that you've done, you'd end up ruining your life, and I'm sure your father wouldn't want to see that happen. You can make up for your mistake by making the best out of your life. Study hard, reach for your goals, be successful, put life to years, and surely, your dad would be very happy and proud. Ending your life is not the answer; it'll just make matters worse. We have to accept the fact, even if it hurts, and move on, so that we could continue living the good life your father had intended for us."
"Mom...thank you." For the first time today, the lad smiled wholeheartedly. I'm sorry Dad, for saying those things to you. I never mean those words. In fact, I wanted you to know that I'm so glad that no matter how busy you are, you can still spare some time to see how I'm doing in class. If you can hear me and find it in your heart to forgive me, please give me a sign. I love you.
He locked himself inside his father's library the moment he and his mother came home. He sat on the leather chair and rested his head on the desk where the middle-aged man do some of his paperwork. Somehow, his father's scent still lingered there. Opening one of the drawers, he drew out a hard-bound leather notebook which he never actually saw before. With sheer curiosity, he opened it and realized that it was his father's diary.
"I didn't know Dad writes..." Suddenly, his eyes flew wide open. The entry was dated just yesterday, and at the near bottom of the page, his father wrote: I know how much my son hates it if I scold him about something. He thinks that he is but a disappointment for me, yet that's not true. I'm sure that someday he'll understand that I only do this because I know that he can do better, that he is capable of doing great things. Most of all, it's because I love him and want the best for him. No matter what happens, that'll never change...
Finally, he thought as his eyes brimmed with tears, I'm forgiven.
Note: Yay! Finally it's done! Actually, I thought about this storyline when I was in ADMU taking the guidance test that's required of all freshmen. You see, in the 2d part of the exam, the examiner showed us six different black-and-white pictures, and we were to come up with stories based on how we saw and interpreted them. We were given only a damndening TWO MINUTES to fabricate a story for each picture. So basically, I thought about this plotline on the spur of the moment! I know the story's kind of 'cliche-ish,' but well, I really wanted to see this one written on my blog. Hope it isn't that horrible.
posted by dk at 6:00 PM
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