Authors Note:
This is the first story I've ever written. I know that there's a lot of missed opportunities to improve but I'm not proficient enough to improve them without experience or having a critic. If it's not to much to ask could you please leave any tips or criticism that you may find. I plan on finishing this story to the end and updates should be every 2 weeks. Any help you can provide is sincerely appreciated.
"DESPIERTA TE" (Wake up)
"Fuck me, that's loud. Abuelita why'd you have to yell I'm not deaf you know".
Attempting to move any part of my body, I force myself up. Opening my eyes, the first thing I see are wrinkles. "Abuela. What is happening?"
"Nada, pero es desunyo, y tu necessitas comer. Estas tan flaci to" (nothing but it's breakfast and you need to eat. Your too skinny)
"Yes, Yes. Just give me a few minutes to get dressed, ok"
"I see you in 5 minutes. Yesterday you no eat"
Hearing the loud bang of the door closing signaled that it was time to start getting ready. Shoving my blankets off exposes the chilly air to my nearly naked body, however this is expected since I prefer to sleep in my mountain of blankets —called my bed— to ward off the Winter cold. Wanting to get warm ASAP, I reach to grab an old tie-dye shirt and jeans hanging on the foot of the bed, but just as I touch my pants the aromatic aroma of bacon wafts into the room.
"shit. Time to go"
Knowing that god's gift to mankind – otherwise known as Bacon - is waiting for me downstairs I hurry up. Shoving my jeans on and grabbing my shirt, I struggle to put it on while rushing to the kitchen.
"Abuelita why did you not tell me that you were going to make bacon, you know how much I love bacon"
"William. If you know what I cook all time, then there is no surprise, Making breakfast boring. No es bueno para el estomago." (It's not good for the stomach)
I nod my head, since learning long ago that attempting to argue or interrupt her when she speaks her "words of wisdom" will result in horrible cooking for the next day or the object of nightmare for those who live with older Hispanic females "The Chancla".
"Aki William" (Here)
Abuela places my breakfast complete with — bacon, omelet with peppers, pancakes, and finally a bagel with cream cheese. Saying thanks, she leaves the kitchen but just as she goes she tell me "I forgot I need to get some food, can you come with?"
Answering with my mouth full. "sure, no problem. Just give me a minute to finish eating"
Proceeding to shove the remaining pancakes into my mouth, I bring my dirty plate to the sink. My grandmother and I long ago decided that whoever doesn't cook gets cleaning duty, not that I ever had a problem with the arrangement because I pretty sure that she can't clean dishes to save her life. Every time without fail, her "washed dishes" have grease or food on them. Fortunately for her, my dishes are always 100% clean. No stains. No food. No grease.
Finishing up, I yell "I'm going to go get my jacket, ok"
"voy a esperar afera, mijo" (I'm going to wait outside William)
Walking toward my closet, I open them to reveal about 20 jackets. Why do I have such a collection you say, well that's quite a simple question. We reside in Baltimore, Maryland where it's freezing cold, basically every day. To fight the ever pervasive cold, I collect jackets. Which is essentially a requirement living in the north. Shifting my view to the right, a blur of orange catches my attention, I don't know why but the tiger stripes seems to stand out among all the others. Seems that today I'm going to look like a tiger. putting on the jacket and getting my phone, I rush toward the open front door.
"I'm ready to go"
"Por dios, tu necessitas mas tiempo para decidar tu ropa que una mujer, y soy uno" (my God, you need more time to pick your clothes then a woman, and I am one)
"Abuelita, yo se que me amas. El secundo es que yo no prepardo mi ropa para manana todos los dias. Que tu quieres que ago, soy 17 y un hombre, no me Importa" (grandmother, I know you love me. Second I don't prepare my clothes for tomorrow everyday. What do you want me to do, I'm 17 and a guy, I don't care)
"Es porque te amo que te estoy diciendo esto. Casi eres un adulto" (it's because I love you that I'm saying this. You are almost an adult)
"because of my love I say this. You are man you need to think about finding girl. Girls like nice dressing man."
"you know that I don't care about finding a girlfriend"
"yes, but why not try?"
"You know the reason"
"… yes, but one day I hope you change mind"
"who knows abuela? Who knows?
After having the same argument for the 52th time we fall into a quiet silence while strolling toward the nearby Public's. Seeing how she was starting to shiver, I reach over giving her a one-arm hug with my left arm. Whenever I do this in public I swear it causes passersby to die of laughter on the inside. I mean how often do you see a 17 year-old 6'3 giant hugging a 68 year-old 4'11 old women. Knowing that she feels bad for bring the topic up again and being too stubborn admit defeat, I break the tension.
"how about when we get back I make some café con leche (coffee with milk) just the way you enjoy and whip up some flan for desert"
Feeling an arm wrap around my lower ribs and squeeze is all I need to know.
As we're passing across the bridge, nearing Public's, I remember I'd forgotten to ask her something.
"does dad want anything?"
She shakes her head in response. "El no me dijo que queria algo. Es hombre casi Vive en el trabajo. El necessita trabaj-- AHHHH"
Alarmed from her scream, I hear something swerving towards us. In my peripheral vision I see the headlights shine toward us. Making a snap decision, I shove her to the right. Seeing her fall near the railing is the last image before what I can only describe as having a solid wall, crashes into me. Pain spreads all over my left leg, torso, arm, and face. Unfortunately it only got worse, as a moment later I feel myself fly into the ground, the impact knocking all the breath out of me. Struggling to regain my breath, I attempt to stand up and see if my grandmother is alright but as I take a step it immediately causes my to cry out in pain.
"Come on, pain is temporary don't pussy out. Abuela needs you"
Despite how my left side feels like a well used punching bag, I lean on my right leg and limp toward where she is.
"Abuela, you alright" I yell. Not hearing a response I speed up. As I reach where she is I notice that their seems to be no injury or any blood. Checking her pulse I feel a steady rhythm and feel relief that she's alive, although unconscious.
No longer having all my attention on my grandmother, I turn around to see what happened with the car that nearly ran us over. I'm surprised to see that the car that hit me was a minivan, Damn no wonder it felt like a wall hitting me. Since there is no one around us I assume that there still in the car. Limping over towards the driver door, it suddenly hits me how the entire right half of the car is dangling over the edge of the bridge. Knowing that the car may tip over if I create to much movement, I limp over towards the driver door where I see that the driver is a young black woman wearing blue scrubs. Seeing that she hasn't moved she's likely unconscious not dead since I see her chest moving up and down. Meticulously and slowly I open the driver door, which thankfully opened since I'd probably have had to break the window if it hadn't open. Reaching around to her seatbelt buckle and releasing the mechanism she falls forward but I'm prepared for her. Hooking my left arm around her knees and my right under her armpits, I quickly pick her up and rush to careful lay her on the ground a few feet away. When she on the ground, relieving the weight from my left arm that's been in intense pain from the pressure. Making sure she's alright I see that her only injury is a bruise on her forehead. Since she has a minivan there might be someone else inside. I limp over once again to the right passenger door and slowly move it open. I curse myself for not opening the passenger side door earlier when the baby carrier comes into my view. What's even worse is that it's located on the right passenger seat. Aware that any weight on the left side might cause it to fall into the river leaves me with few options. Suddenly I hear a creaking sounds coming from the car. Knowing that any help that's coming will arrive to late I leave my own fate and the baby's to the universe, please don't fail me now. Placing myself on the left seat I reach over to remove the seat belt from the safety apparatus. Thankful the car didn't move, however as I remove the baby which I assume is a boy due to the blue theme clothes. Thankfully the kid is asleep since if he were awake he would have made rescuing him much more difficult. As I hold him with my right hand the car begins to move. Sensing the car tilt, I rush toward the door. The resulting momentum speeds up the cars descent. As I reach the door, the car falls off but I'm close enough to grab the ledge with my left arm. I almost lose my grip because of the pain shoots up my arm from the weight bearing me down. Trying to ignore the pain as much as possible, I try to place the kid on the ledge with the last few seconds I have left. Just as I raise the kid above my head his weight lessens until its completely gone. As I tilt my head up and see him in the mother's arms safe give me a burst of joy from knowing I was able to save him. Without having to hold him any longer I'm able to grip the ledge with my other hand. Distributing my weight on both hands I start to pull myself up the concrete ledge. Just as I reaches the top the concrete under my right hand breaks off. The sudden shift of all my weight onto my left arm causes pain like I've never thought possible, so much so that when I finally open my clenched eyes I see the bridge getting farther away.
All in all, this isn't such a bad way to die. I mean, I saved two people from dying, how many can say that. I just hope that they live their lives to the fullest. Closing my eyes, I silently hold onto hope that removing my sight will alleviate some of the fear as I fall into my death. Why did it have to be drowning, I could accept death but drowning strikes fear into me like nothing else.
However it doesn't come. I know that I've been falling for some time but still haven't hit the water. I'm tempted to open my eyes but fear grips me, however I won't allow them to open them. If only to deceive myself into believing that I'm not falling to my death.
Eventually after God knows how long it becomes hard to focus and my breathing slows alongside my heartbeat, feeling calmer and blissfully not feeling the pain all along my left side, I feel myself start to get drowsy and succumbing to sleep. The last thing I feel before knocking out is the feeling of being wet.