It was dark as he returned to their home, as usual, he quietly opened the stainless gate. At its extreme it was inevitable to create noise as it opened, but he carefully moved it and closed it afterwards. Inside their compound he notice the abandoned garage, the wild grass is set and the house is obviously old, people say it was build by Spaniards. It is also often a roundup of sensational stories about the massacres of the only living souls here. Made of wooden windows and pierced ceilings, towering columns and covered floors and cement. The door upstairs seems like plants were born. It seems like a decade of joining them. While he was throwing a paper from a government institution to ask for help, he did nothing to do with it.
He gently opened the door, much less bright inside. He overlooks the whole living room, old chairs and just a broken piano. It brings back to his memory the beauty of the living room full of joy and the bow of happiness that you have had in the good past, with a small smile lived in those moments. Above the piano are certificates of recognition as a teacher, diploma, portrait of his youth, his family and his broken wife. In those moments a memory was rebuilt where the incident was their conversation of a sad and rainy afternoon as they looked out their window.
"Forgive me and your daughter my dear, because of us your teaching stopped”
- his wife's language as she fed the food to his mouth
As the food approached to him there was a little thrown into its mouth that Biyo quickly wiped the thing and the woman continued to speak,
"Promise me my dear, take care of our daughter, he has nothing to expect but....You."
- Biyo just smiled and continued to eat.
His observation continued on the object over the table and wall. A little while looking at them, their family and newlyweds were a memory of their sworn lifelong companionship. It also didn't take long after the deadly illness hit the housewife and lost her life one morning in their room. He wiped his eyes and headed into a quiet room.
In opening the room he definitely see his child lying in the bed. An old widow also stood up who’s taking care of it, this would be her last day because she hadn’t received a salary for almost three months. The old lady slowly came out of the room and didn’t said goodbye to Biyo. Inside the room is a young woman fighting for a brain cancer. The smell of the surroundings, the bimps and some equipment are stained and faded. Spreads of medicines, rotting some litter and wandering flowers bent over vases. The person lived and suffered for a long time, the room being a witness to all kinds of pain and suffering of life, becoming a symbol of sadness and it remains to this day.
She woke up to feel his presence. Here comes the cruelty of illness, an unimaginable curse that depicts an inability to change or even the power of mercy even in love. Sulfurous weeds suffering from longevity, hairless, pale lips. The body understands but never of the mind where it is more protected by the debilitating diseases and endless pains that are at the core of the soul. Even in such a situation it smiled at him as he saw. Dad Biyo had a crush in his pocket, two pieces of candy and happily showing them to his daughter, it seemed like a child played and boasted that little thing, parchment and gently sprinkled with the girl's mouth, the woman eat it and smiled at him again.
He didn't want to see the people crying out in pain and suffering from this illness, the things he witnessed before. So in a small way it will be softened in the meantime and it will fly to happiness.
Such is the constant encounter of the father, sometimes he went home from work to give her money, when blessed he definitely buys fruit, medicine and clothing for his child, and otherwise the only stories and tenderness in front of the child to hide the ways he went to failure. It's always been this way for a long and tedious time.
He kissed his daughter's forehead, while remembering the day his daughter was born in this world, and how he had promised a lifetime to accompany, but it would not continue. He gently pulled out of his right pocket the syringe that would end it all, and again he sang a song that creates a happy world between the two as he slowly crushed the matter into the small body following the shed of his tears and asking for forgiveness.
"Pa....pa..."
-the little girl’s language as her eyes were about to close looking at him with sadness and understanding.
He hugged his daughter tightly, while the little angel was leaving the world with false truths of unbelief in hope.
End.
