36 Ounces Of Regret

A Story by Tesfay

Tesfay

36 Ounces Of Regret
re.gret ri;gret/ verb 1. feel sad, repentant, or disappointed over (something that has happened or been done, especially a loss or missed opportunity)

Although the skies where clear blue that day I remember it raining that night. I remember the yellow tapes, the unteen police officers that surrounded the crime scene as the ambulance took off screeching. The sound of my step mothers voice when she she first arrived at the scene, he broken English just as broken as her heart was, her calling for her husband only to hear the silence that filled the streets while news reporters positioned outside the yellow tapes, oh yeah the yellow tapes, the tapes I kept staring at as the blue lights reflected off them I kept thinking to myself how? why? The same question I ask myself everyday of my life and every day I come up with a different answer. My ear went def from all the gun shots I wasn't able to hear myself think. Officers badgering me with questions like "what did he look like" "which direction did you see him run in" "describe him" like either of it mattered now, there was no bringing my father back. There was no bringing me back from this emptiness I felt myself full into. I felt this disconnect, within an instant I felt part dead and half alive. I would close my eyes just gather my thoughts again but all I saw were images of my father, his eyes, his eyes wide open he laid there with this blank stare, the vomit on his sweater selves, one shoe missing from trying to run away from death, but death cornered him he fell right before the fence. third floor window I heard the last shot and ran back down only to find out it was too late. I regret doing nothing to save my father that day, and I know what you're thinking, there's nothing you could have done logically, what can a fourteen year old kid do when a deranged man is shooting a gun. I relive that day over and over again everyday for the past 14 years. I regret not finding the courage to do something, to do something for my father as he ran for his life, as he made eye contact with me while bullets ripped through his skin. I should of done something, anything! most of all I regret not saying what I wanted to say a few weeks back before his murder.

It came just days after my report card came in my father didn't couldn't find the time between his doctor appointments for his back surgery and finding a way to provide. He asked me to accompany him on ride, not only did excitement take over by I was shocked also even tho it was BJ's any young kid my age would be excited to have a one on one with their father. We walk around grabbing what was needed for the household. he give me advice on education, health and faith. The three things that if I had weld, would make me a better man. It was that night while we sat in that burgundy Pontiac Grand Am discussing my fathers three most important subjects that I felt this feeling of gratitude that I wanted to tell my father how much he meant to me and how much I loved him...but I never found myself to do it, and that's the regret I'll regret forever. Coping with the murder of my father it was suggest I go to therapy, the thought of expressing my thoughts to some stranger who had no clue what I felt or what I've been through didn't sit well with me but I tried it of course, and it lasted three sessions and couldn't bare the torment after that. I hated the feeling of being pitied.

My regrets go back fourteen years ago. As immigrants we weren't doing bad for our selves, my family had arrived in US early 1991. My father along with my step mother and step brother settled in one bedroom (now if you think 4 people living in a one bedroom was bad, wait a few pages). I remember it like it was yesterday, the look on my parents faces the enthusiasm and excitement that filled their hearts, the hope that resettlement in America gave them. Having struggled all their lives, a childhood filled with heartache losses and despair this was a new beginning. My father, the youngest of six siblings a spiritual man set his eyes on America with hopes of opening a new chapter to an on going story, gathered all his strength and will his way into changing his environment.