Diego Ordonez
Matenko
Killer Stories
7 September 2022
What’s wrong
I rose up from a grey lounge chair that was in front of a window; “seems out of place” I thought with the walls of the room being a nice beige accompanied by matching carpet flooring; although I can say it was very pleasant and comfortable to sit in. I stood up straight as my aunt started off saying “Our father”. I never really understood the point of this and why I had to be involved, I felt uncomfortable and out of place. Not only that but the windows weren’t open and it was starting to get real hot and my sky colored jeans and black tee shirt were definitely not complimenting the temperature of the room. I couldn’t focus, all I could do was look around at all the familiar faces filled with sadness and sorrow. My mom standing to my right with her eyes dried up from all the tears conceived by the sudden news.
It was this morning when I was awoken by the sound of my mom screaming and crying. I walked towards her room; I hesitated as I was afraid of what might have possibly occurred for her to react like this. I opened her door and asked her what was wrong but she had her phone on her ear seemingly on a phone call, I tried making sense of the conversation between my mom and the person on the other end. “How did it happen?!” my mom asked with tears flowing down her face reaching the end of her chin and inevitably falling off and splashing on her bed sheets. “ Did the guy not see him!” screamed my mom. At this point I was extremely worried after realizing that the news had to be about a close family member or friend. I examined her room; it was weird seeing it disorganized and messy since the first thing she does after waking up is make her bed, fixing her bed sheets the color of charcoal and her navy blue encased pillows. The curtains across the bed were still shut making the room very dim; the sunlight desiring to engulf the room as it struggles to pass through the thick and soft curtains.” HOW COULD SOMEBODY HAVE THE HEART TO RUN AFTER HITTING MY BROTHER AND LEAVE HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD!” cried my mom. It was my uncle Lucio who had been tragically killed in a hit and run.
“Glory be” continued my uncle. My uncle Lucio was a very respected and well loved person both by his siblings and by his neighbors. It hit all my aunts and uncles hard after hearing the news. I had never seen any of my aunts and uncles shed a single tear until this evening when me and my mom arrived at my aunt’s house. We entered the living room full of complete grief and misery. I greeted every single person in the room; the unspoken requirement when arriving at a Hispanic gathering. Tears being wiped all across the room, hearts trying to survive the strong waves of feelings. I sat down as el Rosario, (which is a series of prayers that are said using a rosary as a guideline with each section of beads on the rosary meaning a certain prayer)was about to start. I stared at the clock hanging high on the wall as it hit 8pm. Everyone gathered around the room since we were about to commence the rosary prayers and so I rose up from a grey lounge chair I was sitting on.
“Hail Mary” began my cousin. I shouldn’t be here, what am I providing that makes my presence meaningful when I don’t feel any type of way about my uncle’s death due to lack of connection? Am I messed up for thinking like this and am I the only one in this room who are having these crooked thoughts? My uncle Lucio was one of the only ones who didn’t decide to immigrate to the U.S and because of this me and the majority of my cousins born here in America had never met him. Why do I yearn for a reason to belong; I shouldn’t want to feel the sorrow and sadness that my family members are experiencing right now. I shouldn’t be wishing that I had known my uncle and that I had a strong bond with him just to erase this feeling of being misplaced. I feel like an imposter, a fraud among my mom and her siblings but the same question keeps on appearing in my mind, “my family knowing that I had never met my uncle invited me to participate in the rosary prayers but WHY?”. “Am I thinking too hard?” I ask myself as I start to feel my feet getting heavier and heavier as if someone is pouring cement inside my shoes. My mind beginning to feel a little clouded .“Estes bien? (Are you okay?) my mom whispered in a soft tone voice. “Yeah I think I’m just thirsty” I replied. “Hurry and go ask your aunt for some water it’s almost your turn” she replied.
“The fifth mystery” I heard from afar as I was stepping foot inside the white tiled kitchen. I opened the cupboard and reached for the bottom shelf where all the cups should be as described by my aunt. I poured myself a glass of water and as I brought it up to drink I looked at my reflection off the cup. I thought about how my mom had checked up on me after noticing I was completely unfocused from the prayers. I thought about all the times she checks up on me no matter what to make sure I’m okay. Even if she might not understand what I go through sometimes she always makes sure to make sure I’m feeling good. I rinsed the cup and headed back to the living room, everyone was in a circle like that of a rosary. I finally realized. All my aunts, uncles, cousins are here to provide comfort to each other including me. Being around family and friends provides comfort, even if I feel out of place in this room my presence is making my family members dealing with the loss of my uncle Lucio a little easier. I walk back to my place in the circle as my mom hands me the rosary. “Are you ready?” asks my mom, I nod and begin reciting the hail holy queen which is the last prayer involved in the rosary prayers.
