“No!”
It was the last word that I heard before everything stopped. The sounds of the shocked people were locked out. Time stopped, and the sound of glass shattering was faint. The indistinct blaring of an ambulance did not bother me. I became oblivious to all the sounds around me. The leaves of Autumn fell quicker and hit the ground a little harder.
“Are you okay, miss?” the voice of a strange woman brought me back to the world. But she was looking right through me. My mum sobbed even louder. Poor little Hardin was gone, and it was my fault. My knees couldn’t take the weight anymore. My heart was vacant and heavy. My eyes felt so heavy. I thought it was just an expression, but my heart shattered into a million pieces like glass. Mum screamed, and it was my fault. I was supposed to hold his hand, crossing the street. Dad always told me that. How could I be so stupid and forget it?
Everything inside of me was screaming. My head was hurting, and my mind just… gave up. I couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t have been true. My baby brother. Gone. And it was my fault.
Driving back home took way too long. Mum didn’t talk to me or look at me at all. She knew it too. She knew that it was my fault.
Days could not have gone any slower. I couldn’t remember the feeling of being happy. All I could think about was Hardin. Warmth became but an utterance. I felt cold all the time. Mum forgot making food some nights, and dinnertime came later and later… I didn’t mind, because I stopped getting hungry. When people said they lost their appetite, I didn’t think they truly knew what that meant. I became null. Distant.
As Christmas got closer, and the snow fell faster, I watched the rest of the world laugh, whilst I grieved. Hardin loved snow. We’d build hordes of snowmen, and sledge down the white hills of our quaint town. Quaint. What a peculiar word to describe a town that couldn’t care less about one of their brightest souls dying. They’re just continuing their lives. As if what happened five months ago never happened. What had been buggering me for the past five months, didn’t mean a thing to them.
I woke up Christmas morning, to see no decorations. After Dad died, there were only three socks left, but Mum didn’t even bother to hang ours up. I thought I’d be feeling disappointed, but I was just insensible. Christmas wasn’t any different than other days in our household. Mum and I didn’t talk. Barely looked at each other.
Laying on my bed, upstairs, I heard Mum walking around outside of my door. I went out to see what was happening. She looked longingly at the room next to mine. Looked inside of it. Neither of us had been inside of it since the accident. Mum looked up with a demeanour of determination in her eyes. She walked down the stairs with confidence and put her coat on. I scurried on my feet after her, doing the same. We went outside and into the car. For a while, I had no idea where we were heading, but I got a feeling of where, after we stopped by the flower shop.
The drive to the cemetery was fast. I felt more and more placid than I had ever been to. A sense of peace hit me when I saw his stone, with dad’s next to it. One could picture us as two stones staring at another two stones.
About the author: Misal Zahra Hakimi is a student of grade 8. She loves reading and writing literature.
Roshandan 