Chapter 1: The Accident

The digital clock on a fuel station states 9:36 PM, My heart was beating fast. It felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.

My legs were so tired, my muscles hurt, and I wanted to stop so badly. But I couldn't. If I stopped, the cop would catch me, and I'd go to jail.

I just stole a man's wallet, I didn't plan for it to happen like this. 

I just needed some money, and the man I took the wallet from looked like he wouldn't notice.

Now I am running as fast as I can, and the cop is right behind me.

"Stop!" he shouted. 

But I didn't. My feet hit the ground hard, one after the other, and my breathing was heavy

I turned into an alley, hoping to lose him, but my heart sank when I saw a tall brick wall in front of me. It was a dead end.

I was trapped.

I looked around, my heart beating even faster. That's when I saw a ladder hanging from a fire escape. It was high up, but it was my only chance.

I jumped and missed.

The cop was getting closer, I jumped again, and this time, I held the cold metal.

I pulled myself up, my arms shaking, my hands slipping. But I didn't stop.

The cop reached the wall just as I got to the rooftop.

He yelled, but I didn't listen.

I ran across the roof, jumping from one building to the next.

My legs felt like they would give up any second, but I kept going.

Finally, I found a roof that sloped down to an empty lot. I slid down and landed hard on the ground. I was shaking, out of breath, and every part of me hurt.

I hid behind an old dumpster, listening. 

The cop wasn't following anymore. I was safe.

I rested there for some time before reaching into my pocket and pulled out the wallet I just stole.

I opened it and counted the money inside,

This would be enough to cover for this nights I said to myself.

I took the money and threw the empty wallet into the dumpster and then headed home.

My life wasn't always like this. 

I did not grow up in the streets.

I once had a lovely family, a wonderful dad who works hard to take care of our family.

Let me take you back to how it all started.

My name is Luis Mateo.

I was 18 years old when my life changed.

I live with my mom,Maria, and my younger brother Emilio, who's 11. My father,Pedro, was a heavy machine operator at a construction company.

My mom, Maria, worked as a cashier at the local grocery store, my dad Pedro.was the strongest, kindest man I've ever known.

My dad loved his job, even though it was tough. Every day, he woke up before the sun, made himself a cup of coffee, and left for work. Mom was just as hardworking, always making sure Emilio and I were okay, even when she was tired. Together, they made sure we had everything we needed.

One week, Dad's company got a big project.

They were hired to demolish a group of old buildings in the city. The job was supposed to take three days.

Dad was excited because it meant extra money, and he joked that we'd all go out for a nice dinner when it was done.

The first two days went smoothly. Dad came home looking very tired, his face tired but happy. "Just one more day, and the job's finished," he said. We talked about going out for pizza that weekend. He smiled at Emilio, who was already dreaming about extra cheese.

But on the third day, everything went wrong.

Dad woke up before everybody else, made his morning coffee and left for work as usual.

around 1:30 p.m. a call came in. Mom and I were home when Dad's boss, Mr. Theodore Called.

He said there had been an accident at the site. Part of the building collapsed while Dad was working. He didn't make it.

I remember Mom dropping the phone and crying so hard it scared Emilio.

I just stood there, frozen, trying to make sense of what I'd just heard. It didn't feel real.

How could someone so strong and full of life be gone?

The days after that were a blur. Mom had to make arrangements for the funeral.

Mr. Theodore came to the house to help. He was kind and supportive, and I could see he felt guilty about what happened. He told us the company would cover all the funeral costs and that they were doing everything they could to investigate the accident.

At the funeral, I felt like I was in a bad dream.

It was a small gathering at the church, just family, friends, and some of Dad's coworkers. 

Mr.Theodore gave a short speech, saying how much Dad meant to the company and how hard he worked. "Pedro was not just an employee; he was a good man, a friend," he said. His voice broke a little, and I realized he truly cared.

Emilio and I sat beside Mom. Emilio didn't say much; he just held onto the toy crane Dad had given him a few years ago. I tried to stay strong for both of them, but when they lowered Dad's casket into the ground, I couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

After the funeral, people came to the house to pay their respects. They brought food and shared stories about Dad.

It was nice to hear how much he had touched their lives, but it also made me miss him even more.

In the weeks that followed, life was hard. Mom had to take on more shifts at work to make ends meet. 

I tried to help her by looking after Emilio and keeping the house in order. 

Emilio struggled too. He used to look up to Dad so much, and now he felt lost.

One day, Mr. Theodore visited us again. 

He handed Mom an envelope. It was money from the company, a compensation fund to help us while we figured things out. "It's not enough," he said, "but I hope it eases the burden a little." Mom thanked him with tears in her eyes.

We're still trying to adjust to life without Dad. It's not easy, but we're getting through it together.

I've learned that family is everything.Dad may not be here with us anymore, but his love is still in everything we do.

Every time Emilio plays with his toy crane or I look at the photo of Dad in his work helmet,I remember how hard he worked for us and how much he loved us.

And that love gives us the strength to keep going.

One evening, Mom came home looking pale and exhausted. She tried to hide it, saying she was just tired, but over the next few weeks, her health got worse. She started coughing a lot, couldn't eat properly, and sometimes struggled to get out of bed.

Emilio and I begged her to see a doctor, but she kept saying, "We can't afford to waste money on this. I'll be fine." Finally, I convinced her to go. When we got to the clinic, the doctor ran some tests and The results were devastating.