The Accident by Mongolita

The house had an unusual setup. As you entered, a long corridor led to spacious bedrooms on each side. The formal dining room, reserved for special occasions like birthdays and Christmas, was next to the master bedroom. But the kitchen, where we ate every day, was in the huge basement. It was the size of the entire upstairs combined. I remember it being dark and dingy with no windows, so the lights were always on.

I was the kind of girl who had to go to bed when I felt sleepy, or I would fall asleep wherever I was. Sometimes I'd fall asleep while drinking my tea during "*la once," and I'd wake up when my nose touched the cold tea in the saucer.

That particular evening, Mom prepared supper later than usual, and it was past my bedtime.

"Girls, supper is ready; come downstairs," Mom called out.

I was sleepy and went downstairs with great difficulty. I wasn't feeling hungry; I only wanted to be in bed, but Mom insisted that I eat my food first.

"Mom, I'm not hungry. Can I go to bed?" I grumbled.

"No, you are not moving from there until you eat your food," Mom said firmly.

"But... but Mom, I'm tired."

"No buts, just eat."

I sat at the table, contemplating the plate, and forced each spoonful down. I could hardly keep my eyes open; my eyelids felt heavy.

"Mom, I've finished. I'm going upstairs to bed now. Good night." I kissed Mom and Dad on their cheeks as we always did.

I went upstairs, half-asleep. I could hardly lift my legs; they felt heavy and weighed a ton. Suddenly, my legs didn't respond, and before I knew it, I had tripped and fallen on the very last step. I hit my forehead on the Chancho - the famous Chilean iron buffer that was in the corner at the end of the stairs. I felt the impact on my forehead as I hit the Chancho, and then I blacked out. When I came to, the next thing I knew, blood was gushing out from somewhere on my face. I couldn't see, but I could hear Mom's voice calling out for Dad's help while trying to stay calm.

"Jorge, come quickly, M.E. hit her head."

Mom grabbed a towel to clean the blood off my face to see where it was coming from and how bad the cut was.

​Although there was blood everywhere and I had split the side of my eyebrow open, it wasn't a serious injury. After getting five stitches to close the cut, I was left with a scar—a permanent reminder of this traumatic accident.

EL CHANCHO

*La Once, the equivalent of tea time (pronounced "lahs-own-says"), is a part of Chilean culture that dates back to colonial times. It's a hot drink, such as tea or hot chocolate, accompanied by cakes or savoury items like bread with charcuterie. It's typically served around 5:00 p.m., and our last meal of the day is at 8:00 p.m.