A short, short story...just the first draft. You guys know I always appreciated your criticizm and opinion. Posting as code due to the formatting.
Her hands shaking, she put down the crumpled sheets back on the
counter. Curiosity is the first step to hell – an old Polish saying her
grandmother used to say whenever she was being overly inquisitive – came
into her mind. Regret, a not very familiar feeling in her adult life has crept up
behind her, and yet, anger and melancholy were getting stronger and
stronger, like the beating of the grandfather-clock that just struck ten.
My life – it's all a lie. Why couldn't they tell me when mom, or whoever
she was, was still alive? What a damn coward. How did he think I would react
to it after his death?
Read ONLY after my death.
Who titles an envelope like that anyways? ...and why did I open it now?
Her face became hot with a ruddy color, and tears begun streaming
down her flushed cheeks. She grabbed the sheets and quickly flipped to the
first page. Skimming through the familiar handwriting to read that part again –
or rather, to make sure it was really there.
...things were so good, and I simply couldn't tell you the truth. We were
so very happy to have you in our lives. After trying for five years, we gave
up on having a child, and adoption was the next logical choice. After all the
prayers we felt blessed and extremely lucky to have received you...
A tear drop fell on the paper and spread from inside out blemishing the
linen paper with the blue ink.
...we have spend many moments talking about telling you the truth.
Mom always wanted to tell you when you were old enough. How old was
enough? We never knew. I imagine she meant in your teens – and that was
the plan, and I always wanted to go along with it. Her death, and the way
you took it – I just couldn't hurt you anymore. I think that telling you the
truth then would hurt you even more. I couldn't stand to see you in pain any
more...
...I hope you know how I feel, and that you will forgive me for making
the decision I have made. Think about Brian, would you be able to tell him the
truth about his real father now? He's such a good kid...
I'll never forgive. Damn coward.
The phone began ringing, but she didn't want to talk to anyone
now.
The machine will take it.
Ahm, good evening, this is Officer Rodriguez with the Chicago Police
Department. I'm so very sorry to inform you that this evening your father,
John Faron, was in an unfortunate car accident. A drunk driver has blown a
red light and hit John's Cadillac at an extremely high speed. I'm so sorry…due
to the extensive injuries your father has passed away in surgery at the Loyola
University Hospital at nine-thirty...
