“Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blending and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is sting less indeed, and as beautiful as life”.
By: Arvin Gumato
Pareja
Whispers of
Death
To Kareen; I hope by now – you have
found
Peace in your
heart accepting the past to
move
on with the
new beginnings of your life.
Death is so inconceivable to a twelve year old. It is only supposed to happen to the sick and dying or to old folks. However, on that ill-fated day, death came knocking on my best friend's door. Death, how could you be so cruel?
Fluffy white clouds waltzed across the vast blue sky as a gentle breeze blew. The tall trees swayed to the gentle and steady wind.
I could hear the faint whispering of the breeze as it caressed our cheeks and ruffled our hair. Crickets creaked and birds chirped merrily. It was so calm before the storm.
It was just after school and I was walking home with my best friend, Jake. We were each other's shadow. As close as siblings, we spent countless happy hours in each other's company. We lived in the same neighborhood. Everyday, we looked forward to walking to school and home together. In class, we sat right beside each other and were inseparable during break times. After school, we spent many happy moments in each other's house doing our homework and playing our favorite computer games. On weekends, we pored over our favorite titles in the library and tore down the neighborhood park in our gleaming scooters.
On that fateful afternoon, Jake and I were deep in conversation as we were walking under his apartment block. We were mere steps away from Jake's house when an astoundingly loud crash shattered the calm of the day. A glass bottle, irresponsibly flung from somewhere above, hit Jake on the head and smashed onto the ground into a million shimmering pieces. Suddenly, Jake, who was walking beside me a few moments ago, collapsed onto the pavement, his body slamming against the cold and hard floor with a sickening thud. I was paralyzed by terror. Cold fear gripped my heart as I saw Jake sprawled on the ground with his hand covering a huge gash on his skull. Ruby-red blood was gushing out from the massive wound caused by the impact of the falling glass bottle on his head.
Jake was in a state of shock, his face was ash-white and his voice was faint and barely audible as he struggled to speak. I had crumbled onto the ground next to Jake. Overwhelmed with fear and trepidation, I was at a loss of what to do. I clutched at his hand helplessly and I could feel it turn deathly cold. Fear clawed at my heart as I knelt next to Jake who was slowly slipping into unconsciousness.
At that crucial moment, the lady who was pushing her baby in the pram when Jake was hit, rushed up to offer her valuable assistance.
She whipped out her cell phone from her pocket and called the police and the ambulance. Her quick action jolted me from my immobilized state and I left her to watch over the unconscious Jake as I rushed to his house to inform his mother. Driven by fear and anxiety, I raced blindly up to Jake's house as my heart pounded at an amazing speed.
When I reached his house, my incessant pounding on the door brought Jake's mother running anxiously to open it.
When she saw my ashen face, she instantly sensed that something was amiss. In between hot tears and sobs, I blurted out the whole incident to her incoherently. Jake's mother let out a heart-wrenching sob and dashed down the stairs. I followed weakly behind her. When she saw Jake, she scooped his feeble form into her arms and broke out into loud uncontrollable sobs. I could not stifle my sobs nor hold back my tears. It broke my heart to hear Jake's mother calling out to him repeatedly, as if in a trance.
The blaring sirens of the ambulance and police car arriving on the scene drowned Jake's mother wailing. The paramedics immediately attended to the frail Jake. His life was hanging in the balance. In a flash, they laid him onto a stretcher and rushed him to hospital, with his distressed mother and I in tow.
As we entered the hospital, the smell of disinfectant assailed us. Jake was whisked into one of the emergency operating rooms. There was a frenzy of activity. I paced nervously up and down the hospital corridor, waiting anxiously for the surgeon to come out of the operating theater and prayed that the news would be good. Jake's mother just sat there and stared blankly into nothing, devoid of all emotions.
Just then, the doctor strode out, looking very grave. My heart jumped. "Sorry. We have tried our best. We are unable to help your son," he said to Jake's mother. I heard my heart shatter into fragments.
"No! I want to see him again! I do not believe you!" I collapsed on the ground and let the tears flow down from my cheeks, my neck and onto my uniform. I did not care about looking pretty anymore. I felt the world collapse in on me. I broke out into loud, uncontrollable sobs, which escalated into wails. Jake was my confidante, my bosom friend and my companion. What would I do without him? I could feel an emptiness slowly creeping into my heart, gripping it with fear. I was in the depths of misery and totally inconsolable as the reality of Jake's death hit me. With a heavy heart, I trudged back home. I could not face the reality of Jake's death.
Everyday, when I look at the empty seat beside me, a lump forms in my throat and I blink the tears away furiously. Now, I will never see the merry face of Jake again.
The gnawing grief of Jake's death still keeps me awake at night weeks after the tragedy. I hope that with time, the pain of a loved one's untimely death would gradually diminish with the humdrum and the whispers of life.
