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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1942026-Aftermath
by Paul
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #1942026
Internal narative of a boy who witnessed the death of his brother
I scream as they pull my brother from the wreckage, but I know it’s too late. Even the paramedic told me he had never seen anyone pull through after a crash with the magnitude I had just witnessed. It’s weird you know it felt like his car and the rest of the world were moving in slow motion. As if to prolong the horrific event even longer than I knew it was going to be. Watching the accident unfold felt like it took hours, but in all reality I knew it was only a matter of seconds.
In a way I feel like this was my fault. If I hadn’t mouthed off to the coach during practice, he wouldn’t have made me stay late to run laps around the field. If I hadn’t mouthed off I could have taken the city bus home and none of this would’ve happened. I would’ve met him at home and he would talk about how great his day was and I would talk about how lousy mine was. Looking back maybe I shouldn’t have yelled at him yesterday. It seems strange yesterday I hated him. I couldn’t wait till he went to college. But now that he’s gone it feels like he left too soon.
I go back over to the paramedics. They look at me with sad eyes and shaking heads. They try to talk to me, comfort me, but I feel nothing. I feel… Dead inside like nothing really matters any more. In reality nothing does.
I wonder what his last thoughts were ya know. Did he think about Mom, Dad, me or maybe even his girlfriend. I guess I’ll never know. The thing I want to know the most though is did he see the semi coming or was it a total surprise. Was he in any pain before he died? Or did the crash snap his neck giving him instant release. Did he even have time to have a last thought? Did he die angry because he had to pick me up? O God I don’t think I could live with myself if he died angry because of me. Did his life flash before his eyes? I guess I’ll never know the answer to any of these questions.
I walk over to the car. It is a gruesome sight, when I see blood on the dash… My Brother’s Blood. I can’t decide whether to cry or throw up so I do both I throw up on the side of the road. Then I cry my eyes out. All I can think about is my brothers dead O God he’s really dead. And there is nothing I can do about it.
I look over at the truck driver he walked away without a scratch. He is insisting to the cops and paramedics that my brother ran a red light and ran into him. The sad thing is I can’t help but believe him. He had a tendency to run red lights and stop signs when he was angry. Right as I begin to think this it starts to rain like Tears From Heaven for my big brother.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1942026-Aftermath