19 November 2012
Ms. Harmon
Pre AP English 10
Fatality
His eyes fell upon me as I looked into them searching to unmask his heart. Listening to the loud but yet soft music beat out of his heart. I breathe him in, the scent of smoke from his mother. Reminiscing about the past, even though we were not perfect as one. That storm of tears that overflowed for way too long. Returning to him in that moment I asked, “Will you ever leave me again?” The sight of his sleeve pushed up his right arm revealed who was permanently on his arm and in his heart and silenced my question. I lay there as my head rises and falls along with him. I finally drift off.
Wednesday evening was the unexpected. The phone rang. On the other end was a familiar voice, but a voice full of lies. I answered, “Hello.”
The voice on the other side returned with the words Jasper, shot, hospital, and dead all in the same sentence. I didn’t believe it. My heart wouldn’t let me. The phone went from my hand, to the smack of the tile floor. Grabbing the keys and dashing out of the door to the car. In the car, I head down the interstate toward Memphis, no seatbelt. My mind rushing as I speed to LeBonheur. Trying to doubt the worst. I arrive and before my car is fully parked my feet are on the ground running toward the entrance of the hospital. It seems as the more I run the further the entrance is. I’m running nowhere. I find his mom, who is waiting along with the rest of his family. The doctor walks out and we all stand. The doctor says, “He is in a vegetative state and there is no brain movement.” I prayed that those would not be the words to roll off of the doctor’s tongue.
Tonight, my emotions ran, I didn’t feel anything. I was in a state of shock; denial. I pray, prayer after prayer, hoping and wishing he would come back. His aunt said to me, “Give it three days, if there’s still no brain movement, then he’s home.” Her words bounce all around my head knowing those are not the words I want to hear. My true grieving finally sat in. I knew the whole time he was gone, I just had to find the courage to face the fact. I went to school the next day, out of force, there were no exceptions. I got to school, but I couldn’t face anyone who knew my situation. The final bell rang, and relief fell off my shoulders. I completed the rest of the week in depression.
Saturday arrived and I was up early, preparing myself mentally and physically for the day to come. A friend of mine escorted me to celebrate his life here on Earth in his father’s church, First Baptist Church of Edmondson. It was a small church, and tightly filled with his family members and friends. Some familiar; some not. Cries pour out from the walls of the church. His mother is on her knees in front of the alter pouring out her sorrows. I stand up and head to the front to pick her up from her knees. I, along with a family member, walk her outside for a minute to breathe. The fact that this celebration was taking place on Mother’s Day didn’t help. The funeral ended with our last good byes in Paradise Garden where he was put to sleep forever. Not only did he leave, but my heart and feelings went with him. When everything was over I began to feel alone. Time would not allow me to grieve nor would anyone else.
My eyes open and my head springs up only to find him lightly snoring. I touch myself; arms, legs, head, and chest. I rub myself; I pinch myself to see that I am truly in reality. I touch him gently and he awakens with a smile. I never spoke of what images played in my head, but yet they never went away. Those images were played in reality not long after.
