The Last Drink
Manuel Octavio Meza Garcia
Since that day I am not the same. I wanted to live the “American Dream” to get out of Latin America, Mexico, without noticing I was leaving my family and forgetting about them, like if they were just an old object that I decided to throw out into the trash can. I only cared about my luck in the casino and my job instead of knowing on how my wife Maria and my son Thomas are doing. “Do they still in poverty?” I asked myself. Only caring about my own needs instead of my family needs. I got out of my house and decided to drink a beer from the fridge and see the beautiful mountains that I could see in my backyard. I remembered that I used to climb the huge mountains and cliffs back in home saying that I enjoyed to, but know I say I fear heights just for enjoying my luxury needs and not going to that smelly ranch with my family back in home. I always enjoyed being with my grandfather, he used to tell me about incredible stories about lost cities and treasures, as a kid I really enjoyed listening to him. When he got older, he got blind and I got older too, I started to lose interests in his stories which one day I decided to leave taking the advantage that my grandfather is blind and he does not know that I leave. I did not care about his feelings, but when they told me he died a huge hole in my heart was made and it got bigger when they told me that the funeral was held 2 weeks after they told, I noticed late because of my lust of money and power and forgot about my missing calls from my brother, sister, mother, father and wife. 2 hours earlier at my work they told me that my wife and my son died of starvation since my family back home could not supported them with food. I blamed to myself: “Why I did not give them some money instead of using it in your greedy actions you idiot?” My father had skin cancer and died one year ago. My mother committed suicide one day after my father’s death. My sister Alejandra died in a car accident in her way to work. The only one I have left to talk is my brother. My uncles, my aunts, and cousins I do not know about them or were do they live, but I do not have communication with them. I started to chug the beer bottle until I was done. After I was done, I decided to go to the store and buy some more beer. Beer… my only friend. After not going to the funerals of my death relatives my brother hates me and he does not want to know about me. The store was close to my house so it was not a big deal to go for a walk and contemplate the road and the mountains that I could see far away. I entered the store and as soon as I enter some people told me: “When is the last time you took a bath” they said in an angry and grumpy way which I just ignore. I grabbed 3 packages of beer and paid for them. I just got out as quick as I can and got my house. I started watching tv and suddenly I started to remember about my doctor’s appointment last week. “I am sorry young man; you only have 1 week for you to die. You had been detected with bladder cancer which it will be a really shot period to live.” Those word did not bother me and kept me from drinking more and more. I just want to leave with my relatives except from my brother. This is my last day in this world and I just slept and wait.
Nothing else makes Octavio happy than a medium-rare steak with a soft drink.