THE SUFFOCATING FAMILY

Hello, my name is Matteo and I am here to tell you my story. I was always happy for my childhood; I had a very peaceful childhood thanks to my father and my mother who always spoiled me for everything. I especially had a connection with my father; he always had a lot of time for me. My father, who is an expert race car driver, always found time for me. He is very famous and we got along well until the misfortune happened. 

It was a summer afternoon in 2000 and we were driving down the road like a normal family and we passed by some beautiful flower fields, and like every child, I was impressed with the flowers that were in my view. I was so amazed that I started to bother my mother to see them and my father too, but like any child who does not measure the consequences, for a few seconds I covered my father's eyes, and that was enough for him to get lost and we collided with another car coming from the opposite lane, causing a big accident and causing my mother to die in that accident....

I was slightly injured, as my mother used her body to cover me, giving her life to save me. My father was left with cuts on his hand and legs that prevented him from continuing to participate as a race car driver. At first this whole story was sad in my house; my father was devastated by the loss of my mother and was always quietly in the living room drinking wine thanks to his great career as a driver; money was not lacking, but I felt that my father had a tremendous helplessness, since I had taken everything from him. He never mentioned it to me, but in me I knew that the culprit of everything had been me.

A few years passed and I was already 18 years old and my father was still in that depression until a certain day.

One morning my father was admiring his race car, thinking about his glory years, and I went over to ask him how he was doing. He just looked at me and said he was doing a little better. At this point we could get by, since my father had rental properties and money was not lacking, but deep in my father's heart, everything was a mess no matter how much money we had and I more than anyone else was having a terrible time because he always blamed me for everything that happened.

Getting back to the subject, I told him if he could lend me the race car to test drive because he had recently taught me how to drive. He, with an incredulous look on his face, said ok, and we proceeded to take it to a race track to test drive. Since he was a former driver, we could go whenever we wanted to the track and there began my first career as a driver.

It was something I never did, but it came naturally to me, maybe because of my father's genes, but I did about 10 laps with my father's race car and it was spectacular. My father, for the first time in a long time, I saw him smile in a sincere way, being very impressed by my performance. When I finished the laps as I got out of the car, my father hugged me and told me that he was proud of me and that the "Zanolis" legacy was still alive. I was happy because my father was happy after a while, but this was the beginning of the end of my quiet life....

The days went by and my father got me up early to practice and measured my time in the time it took me to go around the stadium in my new car that my father had bought me. It was an elegant car and very fast. Day after day was practice without rest, and so 5 months passed of just practicing until my father signed me up for an amateur race to announce my debut to society and that the son would continue the legacy of the "Zanolis". I was very nervous, but I had trained hard for this moment and I was ready.

The day arrived and all the competitors were already at the starting line, some nervous because it was also their debut as pilots. The pressure was in the air from all of us and we looked at the lights to start the race. We looked at them like bloodthirsty animals with our foot on the accelerator to start with this, and finally the light changed to green and we started to run. I remember the great speed my body felt in that race. It was exciting, a 50-lap race. I remember that in the middle of the race I could not pass 3 very good drivers, but remembering how happy it made my father to see me run, I put everything on my side and I did come first in that race, despite my distraction due to the guilt of my past... My father was euphoric and very happy. After the race we went to celebrate; the press kept bothering me, but my father, like a bodyguard, kept them off my back so we could go celebrate and it was a spectacular night. I was known as the best rookie in racing. Everything was happiness until my father became obsessed with me.

The days were passing like the wind in my face fast and my father was getting very demanding with my training; he would barely let me rest, insisting that I should perfect my car driving. It was stressing me out.

One day I had had enough of following my father's strict training, and I ran away and went to celebrate with some friends because my driving career was taking off very well. It had been 2 years since the first race and I was doing well, but I really felt that driving was not my thing; I was just doing it to keep my father happy, but it was too much. That night, when I was with my friends and a girl I liked, a car came out of nowhere and braked as if they wanted to kill someone and the doors opened quickly, which scared me, so much to realize that it was my father with his friends and without further ado they put me in the car without telling me anything as if it was a kidnapping and started to scold me for being with my friends and not training. At this point I couldn't take it anymore and when we got home we had a very loud argument. I yelled at him that I wasn't him to impose very hard workouts on me; that I wanted to live my own life. Between words and words something came out that hurt me as if a bullet had gone through my chest. My father claimed that because of me, my mother was dead, and so was his career. I was shocked, I didn't know what to say, I just kept quiet and tears ran down my cheeks. My father realized what he did and wanted to apologize, but I just went out and locked myself in my room.

The days passed and we were somewhat distanced, but I continued with the races; my father no longer demanded much from me, but he never apologized; I, by then, was like a machine on autopilot; I felt that the days were passing fast and something in me was breaking. Months went by and a very important race was coming up; it was for the world crown and I was somewhat distracted. I could no longer think of anything but running.

Already in my room at night, I was very tangled in my thoughts, so much so that I didn't know what to think. I was very confused; I didn't want to dissect my father, but there was also my inner guilt that wouldn't leave me alone. Already one day for the race, at night I stealthily went to the garage of my house, and there I got into my father's car, a normal car and there I sat, meditating on my life, which had only followed my father's dreams and mine were left lying around... Sad in the seat, confused for living a life that was not mine, I wanted to end it all and I came up with an idea. I got out of the car and took off my polo shirt and proceeded to plug the car's exhaust pipe. I got in and locked myself in and started the car, plugging all possible air leaks so that the gas from the engine would enter the car and choke me to end this.

Quickly, I pressed the neutral and the whole car started to fill with gas and I started to suffocate. I was dying; inside I was happy to finally end this, when out of nowhere my father appeared looking at me through the glass with a very worried expression, trying to open the door without any result, since I had locked it and had the keys. My father in his desperation hit the car with his fists, which were very hurt since mom's accident, but he didn't seem to care and kept on hitting. I could not take it anymore and ended up fainting, the last thing I could hear was the glass breaking and my name spoken by my father's mouth.

I woke up in the hospital and a nurse received me and told me that I had been in a coma for 2 months and left to communicate to my relative who every day was sitting outside waiting for me to open my eyes. To my surprise, it was my father who came in crying and apologizing for what he had caused, for his lack of understanding towards me and his ambition; I also cried and hugged him apologizing for the accident. My father was very apologetic to me, saying that I was not to blame and that he was to blame for almost losing another person important to him, and we spent the rest of the day talking and apologizing. It was all over now.

In the end, I didn't participate in the race, and my father stopped pressuring me about racing and accepted that I gave up racing since it wasn't something I wanted and supported me with everything else. I am finally going to do what I love. Eventually I found a passion for cooking, as I remembered how my mother was happy with that. I worked very hard to open a restaurant and get out of the shadows where I was. My father was proud of my achievements and now we are very happy opening our second establishment in another city in my country.

Well, this has been my story and remember that the past sometimes haunts us, but always remember that past mistakes are to be learned from and not to be carried around like a stone tied to you. Don't stop living your dreams and enjoy your life, which is too short. Thank you for reading me and good luck survivor.