Vehicles were the trend now, horses and carriages had been left with the passing of time. So fast were those mechanic engines, surely dying under their wheels shouldn’t hurt. These had been the foolish thoughts that crossed my mind for the briefs of time and my reaction to it had been thoughtless. I just ran towards the danger hoping for the agonizing ache in my chest to disappear.

I just rushed towards the car but the impact never came. At the last moment, I had been pushed away. Glancing around, I saw lying not far away, a heavily bleeding Vicenzio. The engine had screeched on the ground, its wheels traces were visible, proof of how much its conductor tried to prevent the collision.

The man who came out of the vehicle was extremely pale, his forehead was slightly bleeding. He looked a little lost as he was taking in the scene and slowly, he regained his composure. People were starting to be attracted as he took the time to scold me. I wasn’t really listening; my eyes were fixed on Vicky.

Some newcomers took this opportunity to condemn the existence of vehicles, the debate went on and on and it faded as they were reminded how to take care of the injured parties. I don’t know who, but someone proposed to bring us to the hospital, another protested the idea of moving injured people, but in the end, Vicky, the conductor and I were brought to the hospital.

All along, my hand that was firmly holding Vicenzio’s never loosened as I kept praying. For what, I’m not sure.

I had nothing, so as we arrived, I urged them to take care of him, stating the name of father as a backup for any payment they might need. However, in the end, it was because the conductor was here and had the immediate money that they considered us.

I sat on a chair, waiting, as Vicenzio had been sewn on the forehead, and his broken leg and arm were aligned and prepared to be put in a cast.

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He was placed in a private room, sleeping, almost peacefully.

Such a contradicting person! Why did he jump?

I smiled wryly. Maybe he never did hate me. Maybe what he really had wanted was a sibling, one who wouldn’t criticize his every move, his very presence, the simple fact that he was living. I looked at him, really looked. I was willing to step back and let him have it all. I wasn’t going to fight something that had never been mine.

Somehow, admitting this, I felt the throbbing ache disappear. Finally.

I suddenly heard shouts. It was Paelita’s voice. The hospital had called at home. Exiting Vicky’s room, I saw her and father at the reception. She was looking particularly fretful and completely disoriented. Her composure lost like never before. They had been briefly explained about Vicenzio’s condition before they got to see me.

Coming towards me with long strides, Paelita kept shouting, saying how sure she was that I pushed her son… Father slapped me, for the very first time.

I wasn’t even given the chance to talk. They didn’t saw what happened and it wasn’t like it wasn’t really my fault, so I took their insults and shouts without answering back.

One of the personnel asked them to tone it down and the doctor himself came to let them see their precious child.

My gaze followed them as they entered the room. The window was made of glass and I got to see what was happening inside.

I was dazed for a while and felt bitter. Seeing that man’s face as he was looking at his son, I understood I would never get the kind of love I longed for from him.

I observed the woman by his side, really looked, without a judgmental eye for once.

Paelita was a petite woman, beautiful and her usually carefree face was distorted with worry and shooting daggers at me in indignation that I could touch her lovely child. Maybe I should have aimed for this parent’s love instead but now it was too late. There had been too many harsh words said those last years, way too many that couldn’t be erased.

Exiting the building, I saw father’s chauffeur beside the car. Seeing how things were, they shouldn’t be out of here before a long time, so I had the man take me back to the manor.

That day, I left home with just one note: I’m twenty one now.