• Thump-thump.
    Thump-thump.


    The ambulance stopped in front of the hospital, lights flashing, siren wailing. It brought with it two bodies; a boy, dark hair matted down from a mixture of rain and blood, and a girl – his younger sister. Immediately the two were brought to the emergency room, the boy bleeding heavily, the girl in hysterics. She was tranquilized by the doctors; for fear that she would wake the other patients in that dread place.

    The girl lay motionless on the stretcher, sedated. But as she was about to be whisked off to another unit, as they were preparing to leave her companion behind in the ER, she heard a muffled conversation-something that had to do with something about too much lost blood. She strained to hear, but the sedative was quickly taking effect.

    And everything went black.


    Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-

    ---

    No! ...I’m dreaming about him again.

    I wiped off the cold sweat that beaded on my brows, then looked out the window. It was a clear night, so unlike a few nights ago. The stars were glittering, like diamonds, but they held little meaning to me. I looked away, turning to the nearby wall-clock. 12:13 am. A few hours later and I would have to get up, get dressed, and go with my sister to his funeral. My beloved brother’s funeral. He died just a few days ago...dead at only sixteen…and it was all my fault.

    Only my sister knows the whole story. How I asked him to drive me to that stupid party ‘cause mom wouldn’t allow me to go alone. How I convinced him to take a shortcut though a side street on the way back because it was starting to rain, and so that we could get home before curfew. How we got caught in the middle of a gang war and how a stray bullet had gone past the windshield, hitting him in his right arm. How he lost control of the car, swerved madly, finally crashing into a nearby lamppost. How his head slammed into the passenger side of the dashboard in an attempt to shield me from the crash…

    I saw everything. The sight of my brother’s figure, sprawled out on the dashboard, bleeding profusely, had me in hysterics all the way to the hospital. The doctors had to tranquilize me because of this. But could you blame me? I just saw my own brother shot, bloody, possibly mortally wounded…could you blame me for screaming? But…that bullet didn’t kill him, and neither did the crash. He died in the hospital, three hours after being sent to the ER. Blood loss.

    I survived, having only minor cuts.

    I saw everything. But I remembered none of it all when the police asked me to give a statement, after I got out from the hospital. I wanted to block it all out, block the memory of my brother’s figure from my mind…but I couldn’t. Everytime I closed my eyes he was there, and the more I saw him, the more I felt like I shouldn’t have survived.

    I looked at the bed next to mine. My sister was still sleeping. For a moment I envied her…being able to sleep so soundly, while I couldn’t even sleep at all. I sat up quietly, facing the window, and started with my prayer – a final whispered apology to my brother, though I knew I would never be able to forgive myself. I contemplated everything – why I lived, why he died, how I could’ve done something to prevent it…but in the end, it all came down to one thing – he was dead, and it was all my fault. I didn’t want to cry, but the tears couldn’t be held much longer. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, kuya,” I managed to choke out in between sobs.

    “Why do you keep on blaming yourself?” a sleepy voice said, my sister’s. I hadn’t known she was listening to my soliloquy. “You said you got caught in the middle of a frat war. That wasn’t your fault -you couldn’t have known it was gonna happen. You blame yourself. That’s understandable, but you have to get over it. You didn’t want it to happen. No one did. I know you loved him. I loved him too, and I hate that he’s gone. But this is our reality. s**t happens to everyone; you just have to get up and move on, no matter how hard it may be. In your case, accept that kuya’s gone, stop drowning yourself in tears and get on with your life. That’s what he would’ve wanted.

    And besides, kuya was a good person. He was a good son to mom…remember when she and dad divorced? It was hard on him ‘cause he gained a new responsibility as breadwinner, though he was still only in his teens. He was a good brother to us, a good role model. He had morals, he had a strong faith. I know God would never desert him, wherever he is. Wherever he is, he’s happy. He’s at peace. That’s what’s important. Now sleep, sis. We have a long day ahead of us.” And she turned and went back to sleep.

    I looked at her sleeping form and thought, she was right. God would never desert him. He was happy now. And as I gazed out the window again, at the countless stars that graced the night sky, I mulled over what my sister just said. And for the first time in days, I felt like I could continue on living. For the first time in days, I felt…peace.