Sometimes

I feel a bit lost and left out of the loop on this grand design of life. It tends to hit me ever so often. Moreso, when I am hurled into the unknown and automatically expected to pick up where left off. The greatest of the unknowns hit me on 25th Novermber 2007.

On the 24th, I had the weirdest and strongest of feelings. My head throbbed uncontrollably with waves of nausea coursing through my body. I wondered what was wrong, but could not touch it. I was puzzled. I asked my mom if everything was well, and she said yes. She told me that they were fine and I shoudl stop worrying. At precisely 10:58 that night, the most dreaded call came from a relative. She asked me if I had heard anything about a shooting. I had not, but she said it involved my brother and someone told her he had just been shot in his head. I called my mom, but no one ever answered the phone. I called my brother, but he too was not answering. It took one of my friends to call me and tell me what had happened. He said, "Your brother's been shot and is in the operating room right now." I got so weak, and numb that my best friend had to help maintain my balance.

I sat, and I waited, I prayed, I worried and as if on cue, a calm spread over me and his face appeared before mine at 1:40 a.m. I screamed out and cried harder than ever. My best friend kept asking me what was wrong but I could not muster the strength to tell her. One of my mom's friends, a nurse called me at 1:55 a.m. and said those dreaded words.
"Your brother was in critical condition. We could not remove two of the bullets....he died 15 mins ago."
I screamed even harder. I screamed and screamed while my mother screamed in the background. It was not true, I refused to believe it, but I had seen his face and known the truth. I was overcome. It hurt more so because I knew him to be a fighter, but he wanted to just let go for various reasons. They were all revealed over the course of 1 week, because I dreamed about him and spoke to him. Every night I would wake up in a hot sweat with a tear stained face. What made it even weirder for my best friend, was that she never saw me cry over any death, but I could not accept that my brother had died.

He did not die because of a robbery, he died because of jealousy and stupidity. Someone had decided that he knew too much and he was going to rat them out. What they failed to understand, was that he believed that your actions would follow you for life and that those alone would get you in trouble. Not your words, but your own actions. What they never realised was that people will forever get careless. One particular police officer was constantly interfering with my brother, and what was weird was that he failed to accept that he was wrong for hassling. His conscious will continually bug him for the rest of his life. The fact that he wrongfully accused my brother of a crime and that he felt even smaller for my brother knew he was such a weak man and was not scared to point it out. These old friends of his that expected him to take the fall for every crime they committed, but my mother had taught us better.

My mother had taught us to never take the fall for any friend. When you walk, you walk alone, for if anything goes wrong, they cannot use your name in the path of blame. Their parents obviously never taught them that for they stood next to them even when they were wrong. My baby brother had walked away from them and their retarded notions. He had removed from them, the only thing they could not completely corrupt. Their greatest challenge. And for the fact that he knew so much, they could not live with him being out there and capable of hastening their path to destruction.

It has been a long journey from that day until now. I do not cry as much as I used to, but I still get emotional and sad. It is hard. However, I see more comfort in knowing that he is out of harms way and that they are still reaping the rewards of their sins.