I never noticed how much I hated silence until today until I needed to sit on the bathroom floor, holding his dying body. I wanted to scream and cry and hit him, but it was just silence, just his breathing fading slowly. The silence of waiting for the ambulance to arrive. "Why does it take so long?" I whisper as my voice begins to break.
I started to cry hysterically when my mother rushed into the room and fell on her knees next to us. She tried to take me in her arms, but I squeezed him tighter each time she pulled me off his body. "I can't leave him," I said, words that were lost in the air when the ambulance finally arrived.
They threw him in the ambulance as if he was already dead, but he wasn't. The moment I opened the door, he began to fight for his life, even though a few minutes earlier he had tried to put an end to it himself.
I'm walking up and down the corridor trying not to punch everyone that passes and not to throw everything that I see and can be thrown. My mom is talking to me, but I can't understand what she is saying. The words seem to be coming from far away, outside the hospital, even though she's just a few meters away from me, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, trying to make me speak. I haven't spoken since I told her that I can't leave him and if he doesn't come back, those will be my last words.
My vision is blurred, but I shake it off. "Just tears," I tell myself. My head is hurting and my legs can no longer carry my weight. I get down on the floor, leaning against the wall. I bring my knees to my chest and bury my face in them."I'll just stay here until he returns, he'll come back soon and everything will be fine" I try to encourage myself, even if I don't believe my own thoughts.
I wake up in my bedroom with my mom sitting at the other end of the bed with a worried sick face,looking straight at me with teary eyes.The moment I opened my eyes I hoped that it was all a nightmare but I know it's all real.He's lying in an uncomfortable bed in a hospital,alone,while I am here choking on my own tears,again.
"He's ok for now" I hear my mom say.I just look at her,nodding my head.I would yell at her to leave me alone but I made a promise to myself and to Alex.I won't break it."Talk to me Simon" "Please just say something" .Still nodding.Maybe she will leave me alone if she sees that I don't say a word.And I was right.She slowly gets up and leaves the room after she glances one more time.
I get my headphones out of my drawer and play "Fourth of July" at full volume. I think it fits my mood.I hope he'll be ok.He has to be.I can't live without him,and no,not the kind of "I can't live without him" teenage girl going through a breakup type.He's my brother,even if not my blood.Since I was five,he never left my side,not even when he was 14 and wanted to go out with his friends.He used to take me with him,even if I was an 11 year old kid.I catch myself tearing up again.I remembered that when I was younger,teachers used to tell me that I am too sensitive and I always overreact but now I am not.And even if I was overreacting(if you can do this when your bestfriend is dying)I have the right to. The guilt starts hitting.Why did he do it?Why didn't he tell me that he is not ok?Is it my fault that he tried to killed himself?Maybe he didn't want to burden me with his problems while I was struggling to take my antidepressants without having a mental breakdown.
He always looked so happy.I used to
envy him for his happiness. Apperently I was envying something that didn't exist.
