Little Brother31 Dec, 2014 02:16 AM
My dearest little brother. How I loved you so. Those times we spent together causing mischief, playing games, laughing...I cherish them. Why did it have to happen? That one fateful day. We had a fight. Even now, I can still remember it. I had become very busy and couldn't hang out with you like I used to. I was worried about school work too much to pay any attention to you.
Mom had just gotten a new job so we were home alone most of the time. I remember sometimes looking out my window to get a view of the front lawn,and there you'd be. Sitting alone in the grass. Waiting for mom and dad to come home from work. It made me sad, seeing you alone all the time. But I had work to do, so I didn't do anything about it.
That day, I had just gotten home from school and you ran up to greet me in the foyer. You were so happy. So hopeful. You came up to me with a hopeful look in your eyes, and begged me to play with you. But that day had been a bad day for me. I had failed a test that day and wanted to go to my room to be alone.
I brushed you off and started to go upstairs, when you got mad and yelled at me. You were angry because I never played with you anymore like I used to do. You thought that I had abandoned you like mom and dad did to us. But you were eleven years old, so I thought you were being immature begging for me to play with you. The stress from the day made me snap, so I yelled at you. I shouted horrible things at you. Calling you selfish and immature for bothering me when I had work to do. I was so cruel when I told you to go find a friend, to do something useful with your life.
I told you that I didn't want to hang out with you, that I didn't even want to see your face. But when I finished my ranting, you had such a hurt look on your face. You were on the brink of tears, and your eyes were filled with so much sorrow and hurt. How could I say such a thing? As an older sister I'm supposed to protect you. As an older sister I was supposed to love you three times as much, to make up for mom and dad. As an older sister.....I was supposed to save you.
You burst into tears and screamed that you hated me. Then you sprinted out the door. I hesitated, then went out to follow you. I called for you to come back. When you didn't I chased after you. We came up on the main road, and I looked in horror as you sprinted through. Cars whizzed by and horns blared. I desperately cried out your name, then time seemed to slow down.
The huge truck was speeding forward, horn blaring. You looked towards it just before it mercilessly ran you over. I shrieked in emotional agony. The world seemed to stop and I ran to your bloodied body. The cars had stopped and I held your limp body. A blood puddle forming under you. A few people gathered around to see your condition. I saw a few on their phones, calling for the hospital.
I sobbed and sobbed, and one tried checking your pulse. More people started gathering around. Too late did the ambulance come for you. Mom and dad were called from their work and arrived at the hospital just before us. They ran to the stretcher carrying him in, but we weren't allowed into the emergency room. We had to wait in the lounge until they brought us the news.
The time stretched on for what seemed like hours, and I felt massive amounts of guilt flooding my heart. If I had just played with you, this wouldn't have happened. If I had been the sister I was supposed to be, we wouldn't be waiting to hear whether you were going to live or not. But when the doctor came out, that sorrowful look on his face, I just knew that you didn't make it. Our parents seemed to know also, because mom covered her mouth and started sobbing again.
He came over and told us that you died of blood loss. Even if you had lived, your organs were too badly damaged to be worth living with. His words sliced me to pieces, and we all broke down crying again, huddled into a hug of tears and sobs.
We arranged a funeral for you, and we stayed long after everyone left, still mourning. We buried you in the cemetery close by our house, so we could visit you often. I remember that night, fell asleep at your grave. In the morning, I woke up in my bed and thought for a split second that it had all been a terrible nightmare, traumatizing and brutal. But when I ran into your room and you weren't there, and when I went to the cemetery to see your grave, reality hit me like a brick wall, and it brought a fresh wave of tears.
To this day, I still feel guilty for your death. It was my fault after all that you died, and I apologize for that, little brother. I hope you don't feel any bad feelings towards me, and I hope you're in a happy place. I hope to see you again someday. I also hope that when I do, we can play and play until the sun sets and rises. Never stopping, never separating. Playing the games we used to play, laughing like we used to do, happy like we used to be. Until then, little brother.