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This is a short story describing phase one of my brother's death. |
| I never thought I would lose Ahmed... Just like this idea has never occured to me. Perhaps i feared losing my parents, friends, other people... but not Ahmed. My brother, my firend, my secret keeper, my advisor... My blood, my ... ahhh, if only I had enough words to decribe my Ahmed... You hear it all the time, "Someone has lost their loved ones in a car accident.." you give your condolences, feel sad, hug them and then move on... But this time I was...I was "them". "Them" is now Sara, Karim, mom, dad, Saeed, Marvic,Samah, Saroosh, Hawa, mohammed Gooda, Mohammed Baha, Bushra, Ahmed Kamal, Jack,Kusal, and the list goes on ... Them is us... How difficult is this? You keep hearing how people moved on, saying "the pain will never go... but you just move on"... what if i am not ready to move on? what is moving on? how can i move on? ---------- Ahmed is gone... ---------- 6/Nov/2010 12:30 Am i was in my room, browsing through facebook, watching tv, in my room, in my home -was "home" its now my HOUSE- , karim knocks on the door, "come in" i say, "ahmed had a car accident", "what???? say that again" I sit up, "ahmed had a car accident"... he leaves the room... i walk out of my room, not yet able to even think it... my hands are colder than a freezing winter's morning in Antartica... Dad is browsing the internet, looking for an airplane ticket to go to malaysia as soon as possible... I sit in our couch... "baba, what happend? what are you doing?", " i am looking for a ticket to get there ASAP", "who told you the whole thing?", " one his friends called me", "did he say much?", "no just that ahmed is in the hospital", "what is the name of the hospital?", "he did not tell me", "let us call him and ask."... dad gets off his seat and takes his eyes away from the monitor, and walks towards me in the heaviest foot steps ever... a moment of silence... he sits back... I am trembeling... I look at karim and I's picture, and Just for what seemed to be minutes, imagine that we are the only two left for my dad... the third is gone... then shake that idea off... "Dad call mohammed, isnt that his name?", "yes it is", he gets up... walks causiously towards the phone... Karim and I follow... I sit in the armed chair next to baba, he picks up the phone... Karim is standing, his back towards the wall... the wall of the room he shared with Ahmed... I do not remember the rest... All i remember is dad handing over the phone to me... "Hello, assalamu alykom" comes a feminane voice from the other end... "wa-alykom al salam" "May I know who am I speaking to?" "It's Sara, Ahmed Ali's sister, what is wrong with him?, is he Ok?" "I am doctor ***... Sara...Your brother came in, in a very bad condition..." I kept say "OK, OK, OK"... my heart was thumping so hard... My hands too cold... yet i held the phone so tight to my ear as if i do not want to let it go... I knew what she was going to say... Why else would Mohammed al Fatih give her the phone to speak to us if Ahmed was not dead??? I mean he could have told us he is comatosed, or unconcious... or the surgery went fine and now he is sleeping... But that is not what happend... He made the doctor speak. Once a doctor speaks to you... it means ... it means.... it means... ---at that point i was hoping very much that she wont say what i KNEW she is about to say--- ------- My heart almost got out of my chest... it was beating so hard, i could almost hear it banging back and forth... "We tried to revive him, we gave him oxygen......" "OK OK OK OK" "I am sorry Sara..." ---- WAIT !!!-- "Why is she sorry?" that is what was going on in my mind... DO NOT SAY IT.... I beg you... I beg you... I beg you do not say it... Please DO not say it. Please do not break my heart.. please ... its just a car accident... he is fine... he is in a coma... he shall wake up one day and talk to us about his experience... or just talk... anything... But please i beg you do not say it...Please ... ---- She said it... "I am sorry, we tried, but we could not save him" "Are you sure??" i think i repeated this question more than 5 times... "yes i am sure." "No, my brother is white, tall, he is handsome, thick eye brows, he wears glasses.. he.." "when he was brought here , he did not have glasses on" ---- Inner struggle asks what follows : Where are his glasses? are they laying on the street? did they fly off his head? are they broken? where are Ahmed's glasses? where are his glasses? ... He just renewed them the last time he was here ! He told me he needs new lenses ! ... Where are his glasses??? ------ "he is tall" i repeat. "You can't be sure" I say... I hear her rolling through some papers... Her tone changes... she is uncertain anymore. she finally says: "he is 170cm tall"... My brain automatically compares his height with mine... I say to myself i am 161cm tall... so IT IS possible that it could be him... Inner struggle: Sara ... Sara that is him... No its not ... It can't be... she is lieing ! ... it's a mistake !!! Shut up!! shut up !! shut up !!! please check again... ---- "Sara his friends recognized him" ----- i drop the phone... dad picks it up.... I start saying "NO.. No.. NO.. NO.. NO..NO.." Karim comes and holds me, asking : "sara what is wrong with ahmed?" I do not answer... i hear dad at the background saying.. "...So what are the procedures Mohammed?... yes...yes...yes" he puts the phone in its place quietly... his face ... i can not describe his face.... he had no expression on his face... he sat back on his chair... looking at the phone... "baba, what is wrong with ahmed" says Karim. ----- pause. i look at dad... as if i am waiting for him to say this whole thing was a bad joke... But ... he doesn't... "Ahmed etwafa ya karim" translation: "Ahmed is dead, karim". My hands tremble even more... i get colder.. my heart wont stop beating... Inner struggle: Baba never lies Sara... your father never lies... he said the truth right now... your brother is dead... NOOOO, shut the fuck up ! baba is lieing, the doctor is lieing ! It's not real, and it's not true ! He is fucking alive... shut the fuck up ! shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up... My hands are pressing too tight on my ears, as if this will stop the sound. Hell ! the sound was louder than a rock concert's loud speakers. --------- this line breaks me down everytime i close my eyes... or even when they are open... "Ahmed etwafa"... "Ahmed etwafa"... "Ahmed" etwafa"... "Ahmed etwafa"... "Ahmed is dead"... "Ahmed is dead"... "Ahmed is dead"..."Ahmed is dead" ----- karim lets go off me... "I have to call mom" he says. "No do not call her" I say. "She is his mother she has to know!!!" "What will you tell her?" "that her son is dead" ----- I sit there... looking at baba, getting up, changing his clothes, not saying one word. after a while: .... "Let us go... I will drop you at your mother's place" dad says. karim goes into the other room... I can't hear what he was saying... all i could think of at that point is my mother screaming her lungs out in the middle of the night... i put on anything i found on my way... we look at each other for a seond... get out of the HOUSE... which used to be HOME one day... get in the car... not a word... not a sound we make... the streets are empty... As if we were the only people awake... and ahmed is dead... Just us. Dad drives up to mom's house... he made a phone call to my cousin and uncle... he told them plain and simple: "hello, Omar, Ahmed got into a car accident and he is dead" and the next phone call was the same. -----silence. we pull of at mom's place. I was terrified. What should i tell her? What do you do? I mean her son just passed away.. ! *i was trying to act like this did not concern me, that i had to look after my mother and father* the last thing i say to dad before i get off the car is: "you do not have enough gas in in the car" he looks at the meter and says: "It's full" we get off the car... it is not yet winter int he UAE, I was very cold... I felt like i was freezing... --------- dad drives off... -------- The tension is killing me... Inner struggle: What if mom has commited sucide already? what if we came too late? what if karim should not have called her? what if we would have told her in the morning and let her have a good night sleep? what if my little sisters woke up from the loud screams of mom...? what if dad doesnt get home...? what if ...?? We are infront of the flat's door... --- To be continued... |
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