Gone So Fast

November 20, 2010
I stand alone. Although there must be 20 people in the hallway, I stand alone in the corner, waiting for class to start. I am a outcast. I go to a school where they judge you on how much your shirt cost, not the type of person you really are. I stick out like a sore thumb. My clothes aren’t designer, I take my bike to school, I have brown short hair, and am tall… the list goes on and on.
My parents sent me here because it is supposed to be the best school in town. For me, its like a living hell. I have one friend. Out of the 500 kids in the school, one person has bothered to look up and say hi. I can’t wait for the day I get out of here. But, I still have 3 years to go.
I head home happy because it’s Friday. When I walk in the door, I know something’s wrong. “mom?” I call out uncertainly.
My mom comes down the stairs. There’s tears in her blue eyes, falling on her face. “what’s wrong?”
I ask, scared to know the answer.
“your brothers in the hospital”
Those four words send me into shock. My brother? My sweet little 5 year old brother.
“what happened?” I ask
“it was a accident. He fell and hit his head on a rock. It was a freak accident. He’s in the hospital with a coma”
I gasp, tears falling down my face.
“come on” my mom says I grim expression on her face.

As we drive to the hospital, I’m a mess inside. I can’t form a coherent thought. All I can think is, I might never get to see him again. My sweet little brother. Blond hair, green eyes. He loved cars. He wanted to be a racecar driver when he grew up. But that’s gone now. He might be gone. My mom was a mess.
Her blue shirt was rumpled and her makeup was messed up. As we walked into the hospital, that big grey building that seemed so scary and bleak.
“Neal Brennan room 521” my mom says to the receptionist. She just looks up and nods, no sympathy in her eyes
“how are you related to him?” she says in a bored tone.
“mother and sister”
“go ahead” she says in the same dull voice

We walk to the elevators and push the button for the 5th floor. We walk down the hall looking for 521. When we find it, we stare at the door for a moment, scared to open it and have to face the truth. My mom slowly turns the knob and opens the door. The first thing I see is my brother, he’s just lying there peacefully. He looks like he’s sleeping, some part of me wishes he was. I look around the room. The walls are painted yellow, which I find to be very ironic, given that this is a place where people go through some of the worst things in there life’s. There’s a table next to my brother and a chair, which my dad is sitting in, and not much else. My mom had gone to talk to my dad, whispering as though they where scared to wake someone up. I waked over to my brothers bed and sank to my knees. I reached out and took his hand.
“I know you can’t hear me right now, but I just want to tell you how much I love you. I need you to wake up. Please do it for me. You cant die. You have to fight. You’re a fighter. Please wake up. I never even got to tell you goodbye.” my mom and dad look at me. I walk over to them slowly, tears pouring down my face. My mom and dad look at me and without a word, pull me into a hug. I feel so lost. I feel like all the good in my life has been stolen from me. I need my brother to get better. He cant die.

School on Monday is awful. People keep on looking at me with this look on there face. Everyone knows. Nothing has changed since Friday. People I have never talked to have given me hugs, said they hope he gets better. I feel broken. Like its just a shell of me here. My mind is numb. All I can think about is my brother.

When I get to the hospital I know something has changed. when I walk into the room I saw my parents gathered around my brothers bed. When I got there I looked at the monitors. That was when I saw the one thing I never wanted to see again. That blank straight line. He was gone. It happened so fast and now it was over. He was gone so fast, I never even got to say goodbye.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback