Fallé – Al Fin
Cassius was silent.
The world seemed to stand perfectly still as he sat in the confessional. His hazel eyes appeared dull, the green flecks almost impossible to see from the dim lighting. His lips looks dry, and his eyelids were slightly puffy. He stared into the camera, looking just as hollow as he felt. If someone were to merely breath on him, he would likely topple over. Every bone in his body ached and swelled, and his tan skin was even seeing somewhat pale as it pulled taught across his muscled frame. As well put-together as he was physically, he looked frail, as if he were made of paper.
“Fallé….” was the only word to escape his thin lips. His voice was nothing like what it was before. It was raspy, weak, and soft. It lacked any presence, as if it were an unsteady breeze tapping the surface of the ocean. His eyelids drooped slightly, and he bit his lower lip. Partially to stop the tears from showing, and partially to try and suppress his own pain, both physical and emotional.
He looked away, not able to look into the camera anymore. He felt completely drained; a corpse sitting before the camera. It felt like a struggle to merely breath as he came face to face with the solemn failure. He looked down at his lap. How much longer would he be able to? Maybe if he just sat there, staring intently… if he didn’t blink, then maybe… no. It was a silly thought, but at a time like this, he thought of childish and desperate bargaining tactics. He glanced up weakly, looking to the ceiling.
"Dios mio….” he whispered in his ghost-like rasp. “Dios…Si estás allí…. entonces… entonces…” he paused, choking back tears. He’d just finished crying no more than fifteen minutes before entering the confessional. He’d thought the ocean he’d cried was all there could be, but of course, as with most things in life, he was wrong.
"entonces, por favor—” he choked out, and suddenly the most pitiful noise one could hear burst into the air. It was a twisted mix of a sob and a plea, cut short by the choked feeling. It was the sound of a father would not see his daughter grow up. It was the sound of a father who could do nothing but stand idly by as his precious, gentle child would be put through the hells of poverty and discrimination. It was the sound of a breaking heart, begging to God for just one more chance.
“Por favor, Dios…. Yo haría dar mi vida…. solo uno más oportunidad….” his words were almost unrecognizable, even when ignoring the language barrier. His throat sounded scratchy and hoarse, as if he had just been screaming moments before. Now he was humbled in the small room, alone with his thoughts, a camera, and the God above. He began to desperately bargain with God, if such a Being existed.
He couldn’t hold it in any longer; the tears began to stream down his face, glistening against his dulled skin. His hair was greasy and messy, sticking to his forehead. The only thing besides the tears that gave any depth to his skin was the gleaming sweat along his head and neck.
He fell silent for a few minutes, as if hoping the Celestial Being would come down and shake his hand, agreeing to the terms and conditions he offered forth— his own life. In a heartbeat he would sell his soul, if only to first have one more chance for his daughter, for his entire family. His mind locked in on Esperanza, the one whom he felt he let down the most.
This was it.
There was nothing he could do.
No way to save her from the crippling poverty.
No way to provide for her even the most basic of necessities.
No way to shield her from the cruelty from the world.
And if worse came to worse, as he feared it soon would…
He would have no way to care for her at all.
Every time he blinked, his heart skipped a beat for fear that when he opened his eyes all that would greet him was the inky blackness.
He felt as though each time, he was a bit closer…
Every time he passed out, it was for a little bit longer.
Every time he felt dizzy, his vision blurred just a bit more.
He quickly wiped his tears away, desperate to see clearly while he still could.
His muscles tensed as he reached for his face, and he winced in pain. Another ragged gasp broke the silence, and he knew that there was nobody coming to save him from his predicament. Nobody above to whisk away the pain. Nobody below to reach out to. Nothing to save them from the harsh reality that gripped every fiber of his body. He wasn’t even back in the real world yet. He was trapped, forced away from his daughter for another two months, with nothing to do but stir and stew in his crushing failure.
"Aye Dios arriba….” he cried, his voice cracking pitifully as he doubled over, his head between his knees.
“Salvarla, por favor…. yo no puedo….. fallé.” he cried, gasping and coughing as his quiet sobs racked his body.
"Fallé…. fallé como un padre… como un hombre…. como todo…. fallé.”
There was nothing more he could do, but succumb to the pain pulling at every fiber, every muscle.
And that simple fact that he could do nothing was what pained him the most.
—
((TITLE: “I Failed…” — “The End”
"I failed…”
“My God…” “God, if you are there… then…. then…”
“Then please—”
“Please, God… I would give my life.. just one more chance.”
“Oh God above…”
“Save her, please. I can’t… I failed.”
“I failed… I failed as a father, as a man, as everything… I failed.”))