Marcy (30)



She had a lousy day; always it was like that when luck turned its back to her.
That afternoon she needed the highest concentration for the job, even the most simple and routine things. She was with the children, but her head wandered, thousands of miles away. The kids were going to bed and she collapsed on the living room couch when the phone rang. It was his mother.
-Marcelina -the tone of the voice warned her -, you must come soon, your father is admitted to the Central Hospital.
She called the baby sitter and once she went through the doorway, Marcy went out in the direction to the health center, in a taxi.
It had just produced one of her chronic fears.
Many nights, before going to sleep she thought that her parents would be older and would lose them. In fact, when she visited them, she had watched them the signs announcing the disease and the old age and that had caused panic to her. But his father was the most prone. After a lifetime as a metal industry worker, working under the most difficult conditions imaginable, his health was in the razor's edge. Everyone knew it, his company doctor had said so many times. The future after retirement would be the disease and they would have to face it.
Myocardial infarction, that´s what Amelia said to her upon arrival at the door of the intensive care unit.
-Daughter, almost he dies! Amelia cried on her shoulder, reviving the panic. She explained that the father had fallen to the floor, at home, which she called the ambulance and they managed to revive him.
But he still was debating at the edge of the final collapse.
They feared the worst when approached them the specialist.
They had managed to dissolve the clot, but the next hours would be crucial.  They allowed them to see him only a few seconds through a glass. Under the effect of the strong medication, Arturo only responded with a weak gesture amid a tangle of wires and tubes of colors.
-I love you, dad -she was surprised by her voice, as if it were not her own. Her father could perhaps understand it by the movement of her lips.
They forced them to leave and they stayed all night at the gate of the intensive unit, sitting in a terrible plastic chairs.
When Marcy returned to her home she had traces of tiredness marked on her face. She found that children had already left to the school with the baby sitter and collapsed on her bed.
"I love you dad, I hate you, I hate you dad".
She was horrified to feel a so cold hate, as a dirty satisfaction, an accomplished revenge. She mixed those thoughts with the sounds of slot machines, which were so well recorded in her brain.
It was an incomprehensible jumble.
But she was so exhausted that she fell defeated by sleep.

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