contradiction

The silence hung in the hospital room, filled with anxiety and pain, except for the murmurs of the doctors outside. Sitting on the chair next to her son's bed, the mother held his hand, which was cold to the touch, while the father stood by the window, his eyes shifting between the overcast sky and the worried look that had crept into his heart.

The doctor spoke with seriousness in his voice: "Your son's condition is critical. He has developed a high fever due to exhaustion and exposure to the cold. We are doing our best to bring his temperature down, but the situation remains unstable."

Suddenly, the mother slapped her forehead in frustration, looking at her husband with a gaze full of blame, and said in a broken voice: "How could you let him go? How could you allow him to go out on such a cold night?"

The father, in intense anger, responded sharply, his voice betraying the turmoil in his heart: "You're the reason! I've told you over and over to stay away from that poor boy! I've told you time and again that he will only bring us trouble."

His words came out like lashes, and he added: "But, as usual, you didn't listen, and now we are facing the consequences. Where is he now? In the hospital, because of his friend—the poor boy who only cares about playing in the streets. I told you we couldn't let him be friends with someone like that!"

The mother closed her eyes for a moment, as if the weight of her husband's words was too much to bear. She felt deep bitterness, but tried to respond: "But he needed companionship! He needed a friend, and you know that well. We don't live on an island, we can't just close our hearts like you do."

But the father, boiling with anger, couldn't bear to hear such words. He suddenly turned to her, his eyes blazing: "You didn't just ignore my advice, you defended that boy! And now we see how things are turning out—he goes out to play with him at night and ends up with a fever. Is this what you wanted?!"

The mother was about to reply, but her husband's words felt like a blow to her heart. She barely felt the tears gathering in her eyes when, suddenly, the father looked at Vitus, who stood silently in the corner, his eyes filled with sadness and fear. The father said harshly: "You people, you poor people, always bring us trouble! I hate you! I hate everything about you!"

Vitus stood there, still not understanding everything that was happening, unable to reply. Tears gathered in his eyes, but he was trying not to show his weakness. He wasn't the one responsible for all of this, but he couldn't escape the blame that was being thrown at him, even though he, too, was a victim of the circumstances.

Then the father spoke in a lower voice, filled with disdain: "I remember how that sick old man entered our house, and we both know very well how that wretch tried to assault our son. I told you we should stay away from these people, but you always said we should help them, that we should be kind, and that not everyone is the same. And now, look where we are. Our son is in this condition because of them!"

The father stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, his anger somewhat subsiding, but still very much present. He looked at Vitus again and said: "I've always said we should keep our distance from them, but you wouldn't listen. And now, here's our son in the hospital because of them. Do you see? Do you see?"

Then the father turned back to his wife, his heart still full of hatred. He spoke in a sharp voice: "And you, what were you thinking? Our son was out playing with that boy even on that cold night. Didn't it cross your mind what might happen? If you had listened to me, we wouldn't be here now, he wouldn't be in this condition. He's sick because of that boy you think is his friend."

In that moment, the mother exploded in unjustified anger, slapping her husband across the face. "How dare you blame everyone but yourself? You didn't care for him as you should have! If you had been more careful, if you had watched over him, we wouldn't be in this situation now. If you cared for him instead of spending your time blaming others, he'd be in a better place now."

She continued, "And still, you talk about that old man. Our son is fine, nothing happened, it was my mistake to have him share the room with my little son just because I was using the guest room. And that's your fault too, for not stopping our son from going out tonight. Why can't you look beyond what's in front of you? Look around you for once!"

The father took a step back, his voice fading, but still screaming internally. The words hung in the air around them, but they continued to affect both of them. Neither could deny the years of internal conflict they had been living with.

While the father breathed heavily, he looked at Vitus and said: "If you don't understand how much I hate this situation, know that it's because of what this boy did. He should have stayed away from our son, he should have chosen his friends more carefully!"

Vitus stood motionless, unable to reply, but his heart was solely concerned with one thing: would he be able to see Orlius again? Would he be able to be by his side during these difficult times? He thought to himself that the only one who could defend him now was Orlius himself.

And as the silence took over the room, each person carried their own bitterness—bitterness about the past, bitterness about the choices not made, and bitterness about a future that they seemed unable to understand or define.