Carlos

Photo by P.J. Onori

Carlos sat on the cold hard pew and inhaled the silence of the hospital chapel.

He stared down at his hands, rough and clean, that only a few hours ago had been stained red with Teresa’s blood. He had asked her out for dinner at a quaint cafe that had just opened on the corner of the street where she worked. He had planned to have a pleasant meal, light conversation, and then he would have told her why he was breaking up with her.

He knew she would be heartbroken. Teresa was head over heels in love with him. She would call him at work just to tell him she missed him, or to take care, or to whisper “I love you”. She never forgot what he liked or disliked whether it was clothes, food or music. She knew exactly what to say to perk him up when he felt down.

It wasn’t as if they were the perfect couple. They had occasional spats now and then but Teresa would usually give in and just acquiesce to his arguments in the end.

It had been two months since Carlos had started seeing Loren, the new accounting clerk at the office where he worked. Loren was nothing like Teresa. She was pig-headed and stubborn. She acted up and pouted her lips when things didn’t go her way. She liked doing things on a whim and would drag Carlos along with her even if he didn’t feel like it.

But there was something about Loren that Carlos couldn’t quite explain — as if there was a dark, mysterious force that drew him to her. Perhaps it was that intoxicating perfume she always wore, or perhaps it was the way her eyes sparkled when she was extremely delighted, or perhaps it was way she looked so utterly lonely in her unguarded moments. Whatever it was, it had trapped Carlos in her web.

That was when he decided it was time to make a clean break before things got really messy. Loren knew about Teresa and had been badgering Carlos to break up with her or else. Carlos pressed for time, saying that he didn’t really know how to break up with her since they didn’t really have any serious falling out. How could he explain that he didn’t love her anymore? What possible reason could he give for such a seemingly callous act of rejection?

But Loren gave him an ultimatum and so he found himself at the corner cafe 30 minutes earlier than the appointed time. He had smoked a couple of cigarettes and had taken two cups of coffee. He had it all sorted out in his head. He would just come clean and be honest about the whole thing — even to tell her that he didn’t understand himself but that was what his heart was telling him.

He was still rehearsing his little script in his mind when from the corner of his eye, he saw Teresa across the street. He was seated at a table by a large window. Teresa saw him, gave a broad smile, waved and proceeded to cross the street.

Perhaps it was her excitement to meet him that caused her to be careless, to ignore the pedestrian traffic light that glowed a bright red. She was probably too eager to see him, that’s why she didn’t see or hear the motorcycle that roared around the corner and crashed into her.

Carlos rushed out of the cafe and ran to where Teresa’s body had landed. He screamed for people to call an ambulance as he held her blood-soaked head in his hands. Teresa looked up at him and smiled weakly, then her eyes closed and her head rolled to his chest.

The doctors had said it was a miracle she was still alive — as if she was still hanging on to something, some lifeline that kept her heart beating and her brain humming despite the extensive damage to her body. They told him that although she was out of immediate danger, she was still in a very fragile condition and needed all the support she could get whether physically, emotionally, or spiritually.

He had just visited her, had taken a long hard look at her unconscious form, her head wrapped up in bandages. She had a serene, otherworldly expression on her face. What would he do now? He thought long and hard as he walked out of the room and into the small deserted chapel.

Carlos sat on the long hard pew and inhaled deeply. How he wished the silence would never end.

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This story is a result of a writing exercise found at 1000wordsmeme.com.