𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞

prologue

You must know the feeling.

Watching something without having any idea of how it's happening, or why.

Praying to God someone will do something about it because you're just watching, having no idea what to do, no matter how desperately you would want to help them. And you're watching, and everything easy in life seems to flash trough your mind, making you think how you should've enjoyed those peaceful times while they lasted, but you just stand there, unable to move, too fazed by this fear of despair. You want to do something, to help, but you just can't.

So you just stand there. The world around you a blur, as you see your loved ones slowly but surely loose their last breaths. You stand there, and everything around you, the whole world around you, seems to go on, seems to keep moving, it looks unfair to yourself they are allowed to keep their peace, while you're crumbling into pieces, wishing God gives you superpowers of some sort to help them, but you just stand there. Still praying you can do something to help. Anything.

But you can't.

You know that feeling? I didn't until now. I didn't until I saw my own brother laying in a puddle of his own blood in front of me, trying his best to save himself form bleeding out, as you yourself are unable to do anything to prevent it. You already see the outcome of all of this, and it scares you so bad, that you're unable to do anything. You already see yourself in front of their grave, crying and asking to whoever is listening why– why they had to take him away from you. You already see yourself standing in front of that same grave on Christmas, Easter and the 4th of July, wishing you could spend that special day where everyone should be together with that one person that's now buried six feet under you, and won't be there for you to spend that special day with you.

So you do nothing. You are unable to. You stand there. Like a coward. While your other brother who– only one stupid year older than you– is actually helping. He's calling some kind of doctors and specialist, all while trying to stop the blood coming out of your other brothers stomach. And you don't do anything to help. You can't physically bring your own legs to move and try to help him as his blood flows over the once white painted tiles.

And as your brother yells at you to help, you just stand there. You disappoint everyone you know, just because you're too selfish and scared to do anything. Anything at all. And this seems all too personal.

Why is our family the target of all of this misery? Why did God decide to wish this upon us? Why isn't he helping me to move right when I needed it the most?

And the next thing I know, Is that I've dropped in front of the body of my brother. If you can even call it a body anymore, with all the blood spread all over his limbs, and the way his skin feels as cold as ice. Maybe it's better to call it a corpse, even though the soul inside of that body is very much still alive. And the heart of that body too, as it seems, because with every beat it spreads throughout that body, more blood seeps out of the wound that's now covered with my brothers hand.

And all of a sudden, my own hand is placed on that wound, and I can feel his heartbeat pounding trough my own skin too. Like we're connected with some kind of device no one has ever invented before. And while my hand is placed upon that beating piece of skin, my other brother keeps pushing on the chest of the brother laying and dying on the ground. And I realize he's receiving hart massage by someone who's seen as his twin, but is so much more than only that.

While I feel the warmth of my brothers body seeping through my fingers, it seems as if everything has stopped already. Like not only your brother was the victim of those bullets, but everything existing in this world has received the same exact impact. I thought everyone in the movies was always overreacting when they say time stopped in front of their eyes, but now it's safe to say they weren't. And it's such a pity I had to experience it myself to be able to believe them.

And when blue and red light appear trough the blur of my eyes, I don't know if it's reality or if it's all in my head. Maybe this is all just a dream. A nightmare. But what kind of sin would I have to have done to receive this kind of horrible nightmare?

And I know it isn't a nightmare when I see paramedics enter the house, the house I know for a fact no one would ever be able to enter as easy as this hadn't they gotten permission, and stomp towards the brother that's still living but isn't alive anymore. Towards the body that's not dead, but not normal anymore.

And I hear myself scream as I see them take out two metal things and pressing it onto my brothers chest with all the strength they have as they release an electric load coursing trough his body, making him levitate off the ground for just a split second before he falls back on the ground like a mangled mess of limbs.

I know I'm screaming, but no one looks my way, as they all seem just as scared as I am.

And then the almost dead body gets lifted up from the ground and put on a stretcher. And you follow the body as it moves towards the ambulance it's supposed to carry it to the hospital. This is good, because he must be still alive. Otherwise he would be put in a bag, like in the movies.

And it's only when I sit inside of the ambulance, that I notice my eyes to be wet and smeared by tears, and my nose stuffed up. And my other brother sits next to me, hands in his hair, and you want to comfort him, but you can't even walk. You don't even know how you got here in the first place. So you sit there in silence, and you think with every breath from your almost dead brother that it might be his last.

Do you recognize that feeling?

                              •••
Starting of strong with basically just throwing my own thoughts abt this on paper.

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Lots of love, Stella xx