“Please,
hang on, Chris…” Mark whispered as he held his friend’s limp hand tightly.
“Son, we need
you to be at the hospital with us to fill out forms. Can you be there?” one of
the paramedics asked.
Mark nodded
numbly. ‘No, this isn’t happening to me. It shouldn’t happen to me.
Christian doesn’t deserve this either. God, please help me. Please let
him live…’
He stepped back as they placed the stretcher inside the ambulance. Mark sat down next to a paramedic who pressed an oxygen mask to Christian’s face.
The fifteen
minutes drive to the hospital was hard for Mark. He felt so useless! His
friend was on the stretcher and he was dying and what can he do? Nothing!
He couldn’t do anything to help his friend. Tears welled up again as he
realised that he might never get to see Christian alive and well ever again.
Christian might just be another person that only lives in his memories; in the
pages of his history. Their brief four years with Christian… their happy times
with him might just be the only thing that colours their dull past.
Where is this place? He thought as he scrambled to his feet.
He looked up and saw…
Nothing.
He scratched the side of his face that wasn’t even itchy. He just
needed to think.
What had happened just now?
His father came back – that’s what happened. And why had he come
back?
“For this son,
for this…”
Yes, he said that. But why? Whatever for?
He looked around him. There was nothing.
Total blackness.
He sat down on his heels and rocked himself back and forth as he
tried to think.
Why am I here? I just don’t understand!
Suddenly, he was blinded with a flash.
He raised his arm to his face to shield his eyes from the light. He
squinted against the light. There was something at the end of this place – and
that’s where this light’s coming from. He walked toward the light warily.
And what if this light is bad?
He couldn’t understand where and how that question could’ve popped up in his head. It’s quite impossible. He tried to think positive all the time when he was alive.
Wait… did I just used the word ‘was’? When I was alive?
He couldn’t comprehend anything at the moment. Why did he just
refer to himself in the past tense? That’s just not right!
He made his way steadily toward the light. It was as if the light
was beckoning for him, softly… playfully.
Just when he thought he’d reached the source of that light…
He saw images flowing through his mind as he travelled through the
spectrums and exchanged worlds.
Images of himself when he was just a toddler and then, when he was
a boy. His grandfather teaching him violin… his first piano lesson when he was
eleven. A blond teenager smiled back at him; a sad blond teenager. His smile
looked happy but his eyes said it all – he didn’t like his childhood, he didn’t
like his life. His first day in high school. Lyeana was there. Their laughter
and their tears when they were together. His first guitar given to him by his
uncle – his mother’s brother. His first flute lesson, conducted by his music
teacher. His father. His argument with his father. His father slapped his
mother. He kicked him and he dropped to the floor as he looked up and searched
his mother’s face for help. His hatred for his father…
He was suddenly aware of his busy surrounding – noisy place it was.
The vague smell of disinfectant filled his nostrils. Funny, he could smell
again. It was just a while ago that he couldn’t smell anything.
He looked down suddenly; as if something had just pushed his head
down and he saw…
…himself.
He saw himself.
He staggered backward, dizzy from the effect of seeing himself.
Why am I there?
He inched his way to the body of himself on that operating table. Bags of blood hung on an IV tree nearby; several IV tubes running into his right arm.
He stared at the face of that man lying on the table – the face of himself. Bloodied and bruised, it was hard to believe that that face was his own. A black eye with a thin red line running across his cheek, crusted at the side with dried blood.
His nose… it looked weird. One of those men in blue surgical gowns
was trying to fix it. A nurse fussed over a syringe before injecting something
into one of his IV tubes.
Two others were working on his left arm, fixing the broken arm the
best they could.
That can’t be right. I can’t be standing before myself. I can’t see myself like this. It was as if I’m the third person in this frightening experience.
And yet, deep
down, he realised that this wasn’t just any frightening experience. He had a
feeling that this might just be the last time he’d be able to be in this world.
Two surgeons and a nurse were working on his knife wounds. Apparently, his lung had collapsed and the knife had punctured his heart as well. A part of him as telling him that he’s dying…
Just when he wanted to know more about all that that was happening to him, more images flew before his eyes.
The funeral of Lyeana, and his conversation with Lyeana’s father. The last night he’d spent with his girlfriend… the sweet memory engraved in his mind forever. He saw Stein, Eva and his newborn brother, Martin. He was only 16 then. A year after they’d moved in with Stein and Eva. He saw his little brother growing up to be someone like himself. He saw Martin strumming his first proper song on the guitar, a Norwegian folk song that he himself had taught Martin. He saw his flings with some girls when he was in university. His managers, Vicky and Tim.
Then, there was an image of three guys. One guy with his wild style and his body piercing, one tall brunette with an infectious grin and another brunette, this time slightly shorter than the second guy. This last brunette was the youngest in the band and he was the one that many girls had fallen head-over-heels for. The one that was formerly known as the “baby of the band”.
But somehow, that last image seemed incomplete. There was something missing. What was the last thing that was missing; what was the last element to complete it?
Then, the answer came.
A fair guy with an average height. He was slightly taller than the first guy, and he was smiling in that image. Now, there were four of them. And it was now that he felt complete. This last person was Christian; it was himself.
He was complete. Every single piece of him was in place.
However, the image of himself started to get slightly fuzzy. He shimmered for a while and then, he was gone from the picture. It was as if he was erased from that picture. The original four-person line-up now had three persons in it. There was a gap in between the two tall guys. The gap where he once belonged.
He understood that last image.
Instead of four, there was only three now.
And nothing could stop the course of nature that had taken place.
A stray tear fell from his eye. Teardrops soon rolled to his cheeks and yet, he did nothing to stop it. He knew it was over. There was no turning back now.
And he didn’t even get a say! Why wasn’t he allowed to say something? Why wasn’t he allowed to make his own decision?
“Because
you’re God’s creation.”
Who said that?
A man in white orbed in front of him, taking shape of a man, quite solid but still rather translucent.
“It’s
time.”
Time for what? He couldn’t understand.
But that man seemed to be able to read his mind.
“It’s
time for you to go.”
Go where?
“To
where you belonged. Back Home.”
What home?
“Follow
me and you’ll see.”
What about the others?
The man seemed to sigh. And then…
“Are you
family?” the surgeon who’d just existed the operating theatre asked.
“We’re
not but we’re the closest to him right now,” Paul said sensibly. It was hard
for him to stay calm and be patient but it’s a privilege.
“Patience
is virtue,” Ben had said earlier, although his voice had a shaky edge to it.
“Well,
there’s not much I can say about him…”
Paul
snapped back to reality as he tried to pay attention to the doctor instead of
that dead long bleep coming from inside the operating theatre. That bleep was very disturbing.
Mark had
to be sedated earlier the night. He’d punched Paul in the face for trying to
stop him from barging into the operating theatre. When Paul had given in to
that punch – and Ben had been kneed in the midsection – Mark wrenched his arm
away from Ben’s vice-like grip and walked into the room.
However,
two interns dragged Mark out. He was shouting and kicking, demanding to know
what’s Christian’s conditions. The nurse who’d heard the commotion had no
choice but to sedate Mark. There was no way that they could’ve let a man like
Mark in the hospital. He was noisy and there were many patients that needed
rest. Mark was now sleeping in the family room near the operating theatre.
“… I’m
sorry.”
Paul’s
head shot up. “Do you mean…” his eyes narrowed.
The
surgeon nodded. “Look, I’m sorry.” He peeled off his gloves.
Paul
eyed the gloves. The blood on those gloves was Christian’s.
Ben was
standing at the corner there, not budging – not even when a nurse ran into him
accidentally and apologised. He was taking this thing rather hard.
“We’d
tried everything we can.” The man placed a hand on Paul’s shoulder and gave a
gentle squeeze. “I’m really, really sorry.” And with that, he left.
Christian frowned. He didn’t want to see this. Paul, of all four of them – or now, only three of them – had locked himself up in a cubicle in the gents’, crying. He realised that Paul didn’t like others to see him cry…
The man accompanying Christian took hold of Christian’s hand and with a flick of his hand, they were both in a room with pleasant decoration. The decoration was useless though, because still, that room looked uncomfortably… cold.
Christian wondered briefly how many death cases had the doctors told family members or friends that had been waiting in that room.
Christian was no longer frowning. He longed to touch and console his two friends currently sitting on that blue leather couch, one of them sleeping under heavy sedative and the other was on the phone. Christian could hear Ben announcing his death to either Tim or Vicky. His parents must’ve been notified already.
Ben was just blubbering out his words to the person at the other end of the line. There was no use hiding his tears. One of his best friends had just left them behind.
Christian wanted to hug Ben to tell him that crying was of no use. It couldn’t bring him back. Once he’s gone, he’s gone for good. He wanted to tell him not to grieve for him. He wanted to hug him, to feel his warmth instead of this coldness he’d felt now.
If this is how death is…
Christian couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence. He really didn’t want to die. He tried fighting everything. Why can’t they see? Why did they just cut that thin thread that was his life and let those men in white coats pronounced him dead? He thought he might’ve had the chance to settle down and have a family, to have two beautiful little blond boys running around and turning the house upside down. He wanted to have a wife, who would be in bed with him every night he came from work; a person that was able to lend an ear to him whenever he needed a listener. He just wanted to live with “the one”.
But everything had been cruelly wrenched away from him. He didn’t have any more chances now. Everything seemed hopeless…
The man standing next to Christian could feel the younger man’s grief. This young man, Christian apparently, was only in his twenties.
He remembered when he was told that his life was over. He was already in his sixties then. He died from a heart attack. He could remember vividly how hard it was for him to part from his family and his close friends.
Christian must’ve felt the same. Probably more. He wasn’t given a chance to settle down, unlike him. He’d had a beautiful wife who took good care of him and a beautiful girl as well as two handsome sons when he left the world. His grandchildren were also there on his death. He was at least luckier than Christian. He died amongst his family members but Christian…
He shook his head.
Christian died amongst the doctors and nurses. He didn’t have a chance to have one last look on his friends or his family members. He understood that Christian had a brother and a sister as well as his parents. They weren’t there when he died. The last person Christian saw was his biological father who was also the man who caused Christian’s death. The last person he saw was the one person whom he’d hated all his life… he didn’t see Mark who’d cried his eyes dry when they’re on the way to the hospital and he hadn’t seen the staffs of the hospital as they tried to save him…
Soon,
Stein, Inger, Eva and Martin entered the family room. Ben looked up from the
couch; tears falling from his eyes and Inger’s heard went out to him
immediately. She hugged him tight, consoling Ben but nothing worked. She was
crying when she let go of Ben.
“Don’t
worry,” Inger said.
“I just
didn’t want him to forget about us. I don’t want any of us to forget about
Chris either,” Ben cried.
“Ben,
look at me.”
Ben found
himself staring into a pair of beautiful emerald eyes. ‘Chris’s eyes,’ he
realised. Christian had inherited his mother’s eyes.
“Christian
will never forget any of you,” Inger said, tears rolling down her cheeks. But
she held on; trying to keep her voice steady. She could hear Stein sobbing
behind her and Eva crying with her father’s arms wrapped around her. Martin was
at the corner of the room, his back turned to all of them. “You’re all like
brothers to him. He’ll never forget you. And believe me, he’ll find a way and make
sure that he’ll be with you – forever.”
“I’m so
sorry, Inger, very sorry…” Ben sobbed.
“Oh,
honey,” Inger said. “You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”
“No,
we’ll never be,” Ben said. “He’s gone and left us. How could we carry on
without Chris?”
Inger
sighed and brushed a tear from that young man’s cheek. “I told you – trust
Christian. Put your faith in him. Even though he’s not with us anymore, he’ll
be with us all in our hearts. I’m sure he’ll find a way to make sure that he’ll
never be
forgotten.”
“Even when the sun is
shining high in the sky
Do not walk by; and don’t pass me by
‘cause I still can’t say my goodbyes
Even if it has been a year or a century.
The bond that binds us together
It will be here forever
I don’t think it knows the answer
To the word ‘never’.
On the road back home
To where we all belonged once
Reminds me of you when I was still there for you
I never want to leave you behind, not even for a day
No, this is never what I want it to be
I want to be there with you
But there is nothing I can do for me to come back
To your lives
Even if it’s only for five minutes.
I wish the cycle had never break
I wish I had more of my life, my time
To spend with you all
For all those wasted moments
And for those unseen years
I miss you all but this is fate
Destiny’s never on any sides
It’s only for forever and a day.”
~~ Yea, it’s me again. And, yes, that’s another poem. Believe me, I’ve got a lot of poems to spare. And that’s only coz there was a year (2002) when I got really into the mood of writing poems and I just write whatever came to my mind – getting my ideas especially through my surroundings. I think I’m into songwriting now. Just to tell you this tiny piece of my life… haha! Anywayz, the old things still stand. Take care, peeps and I still thank Kaz for being my sole reviewer. This fic is gonna end soon… As far as I know, there’s nothing much to write anymore, now that one of my characters is dead. ~~
Ps: I wrote that poem during my year-end semester exam in 2002. I think it was English paper II (essays) that I was sitting for… lol!! That’s probably where I got the papers to write that poem. Haha!