ToxicBy: Morgan Mason
- Come on, Alex - my father, Mr. Augusto says holding my hand as we walked out into the lawn.
I look up to watch him and see his haggard and sad countenance. Santa passes a hand through his hair, straightens the cufflinks and back to look forward to. I've never seen so sad dad.
While he is immersed in his pain, I take to contemplate again the gold chain and pendant in the shape of heart I have on the other hand. The only memory that was my beloved mother, after the marginal took her life two days ago.
Mom is doing really miss. Nothing is as before here at home. The garden flowers she tended with such dedication, are now wilted. canaries pet non sing more like once. They also feel the lack of it. But who else feels the lack of it is me. However, I do not cry in front of my father not to leave it even sadder.
Moments later, I and Dad got to give the last goodbye to Mama. Pierre awaits us in a corner and is very prostrated. He looks at us and nods. Some people are present, stay in chairs, others are standing talking down. Lucius priest is the first to approach to talk to my father. Soon after it, arrive some executives and members of society to pay their respects.
Women who accompany them try to make jokes gently squeezing my cheek and speaking kind words. In response to the smiles of madams, I close the face and hide behind my father's legs. I do not like to treat me like that! They think I'm a weak and sensitive boy who cries over everything. I'm not that boy!
Not long before the priest initiate the solemnities. My father and I settled into the chairs to listen to him as well as others who were so far cajoling Mr. Augusto. I do not know how they have the courage to come on a day like today pulling my father's bag and talk about business. Bunch of self-righteous people who do not respect other people's pain!
As the priest holy cites excerpts, I take to get closer to Mother. I grab one of the many white roses standing over his body and aspire the smell. The flower exudes the fragrance of perfume that Mom liked. I'm tiptoeing to be able to look at his face which is now covered by a thin white veil. She seems to be smiling at me.
Mom is so beautiful. Although sleeping the sleep of angels, your skin keeps the pink usual on her cheeks. The brown hair was falling over his shoulder and chest, forming an undulating waterfall. Because of their eyes are closed, I can not see the sparkling blue that they convey. I miss her loving eyes, his gentle voice, her sweet way. I miss her.
Daddy says I'm the male version of it. The physical similarities are huge. But only the physical, because Pierre say that I have the strong temperament of my father. You're ... Maybe they are right!
Back in your hand and realize she's cold. This feeling does not go with my mother, who exuded kindness and warmth to those around her. She helped the poor, especially orphans. My mother liked to radiate love to the less needy.
Right now I hear a bird in the distance. The sound of it makes my body freeze immediately. Is it the firebird that kept me company on the night falls in the well?
He lets out another yelp and along with it comes a thin, cold rain. Some people try to protect themselves under the awning there on rows of chairs. Others, however, take shelter under the branches of trees.
While some men put the lid to cover the body of my mother, Lucius priest hastens the funeral acts. Soon the exquisite coffin begins to descend to his eternal home.
I run against him and set the white rose that falls on the mahogany wood. I feel a hand touch my shoulder and I look up. Beside me, my father is crying and her tears are mixed with the tears shed by heaven.
Again I look down and my eyes follow the trajectory of his departure. Mom never return. Now she's with the angels and a supreme power that exists in the kingdom of heaven. They say that God lives there, surrounded by cherubs who play harps. My beautiful and loving mother will not be alone. But I and Dad yes!
In the business world I am known as a cold and calculating man. Always I get what I want and many still consider me ruthless. Be heir to one of the largest of the country's steel industry made me a successful businessman, rich and powerful. I have money and many women who are always willing to satisfy all my desires. In addition, of course, have many sycophants, licking the ground where I step. What money and can not do with people? Turn them into hypocrites and empty beings. Corrupts them! The wealthy caste of Brazilian society is full of falsehood and poor people, who do their best to take advantage of each other. And, unfortunately, I have to live with this kind of society.
▶ Also By Morgan Mason
- · Toxic