Through A Window
Every now and then, I look back at that picture in my mind, and I wonder, "How did it ever come to this?"
When I first saw her, I had no clue what was happening, I just heard a loud bang from outside my window and when I looked down onto the street-
It was like time had stopped, for a moment, at least. Everything looked like it was in a haze, except her. Veronica. Well, that's what I call her. I don't really know her name, because in the time she had stopped, the second bomb had gone off early, and the cyclist flew off his seat, undoubtedly dead. Veronica was another matter. It looked as if she was thrown to the ground, with the massive force of an unseen giant who had smashed her skull against the sidewalk.
I couldn't just stand there and watch anymore. Running down the stairs, I started to smell the smoke, feel the air attempt to smother me, hear the sound of the flames consume the dying screams from the people across the street. I ran faster, hoping I could make it in time.
I made it out of the apartment building and turned, desperately trying to understand what had just unfolded. The confusion wasn't just mine. Around me, I heard cries for help, screams of terrified children, and…
As I ran to the woman, though her child was crying, I could only hear the ragged gasps of breath coming from her as she could feel her body shutting down. Almost as if her maternal instinct kicked in, she slowly forced her eyes to look at me, and with a very painful and sorrowful expression on her face, she looked down to the baby and back up to me.
"Lovino."
I nodded, although I wasn't sure what for at the time, I just felt like she needed to know she was heard. I just stood there, staring, until she forced two more words out of her mouth, and with her vision going out of focus, and her lungs barely able to work, she said,
"Take… him."
Again, I stood there in shock, but knowing that was her dying wish, I carefully took the crying child from the dead mother's bloodied arms, almost having to pry him from her grip.
I walked away from the attack that day with a heavy heart, and a new life to take care of.
"Lovino Carreido-Hernandez! How many times have I told you to clean your room?" As I stormed down the stairs, I heard a slight crunch. Turning quickly to my left, Lovino was munching on an apple from our tree.
"And I already said that the apples aren't ready to pick yet!"
"You don't have to shout! I'll clean my room later, and you said they weren't ready yesterday so I picked it today! You don't have to be so mean!" The olive-skinned boy stomped out of the house, slamming the screen door behind him.
I never imagined a five year old to be so angry all the time, but I never know when it comes to him.
Since the… accident, I had moved out of my bachelor's apartment and came to live out in the country, planting different fruit trees and vegetable plants to grow as a living. We even have a few chickens now, although Lovi doesn't really like them and he chases them around a lot, when he's not too lazy to stop napping.
He's certainly a handful; whenever I try to make him do his chores, he always says, "Antonio, you're such a bully!" and runs off to take a nap in the tomato plants, and when I make lunch, he says he's not hungry, even though as soon as I turn my back he'd eat the rest of the pasta.
I don't understand why he always seems so upset. But I know that one of these days, he's going to ask about his mother again, Veronica. And I know that one day, I'm going to tell him the story. Just, not right now. I'm sure he has too much on his mind than a kid should have. But I will tell Lovino, one day. For now though, I'll just watch the green-eyed boy from the window as he spends his afternoons napping in the tomato plants.
