I couldn't resist the temptation to look away. My knees fell towards the white wooden carved box as my tears slowly dripped down from the side of my face to the cold, loved, unforgettable soul, I replayed his last words in the back on my mind. I heard the screams of my sister as she looked down at the box refusing to believe the truth. My mind was spinning, my eyes were drowning, my heart couldn't stop racing. I didn't want to believe it myself. A few days before I touched the freezing hand of a loving, sweet, caring man that I once thought I would never forget. But I almost did. I'm afraid to forget the cold hand I refused to touch the day after I had touched the hand of a wrinkly freezing man who I loved. My heart was torn into thousands of pieces. Who would have ever thought you would miss the person you loved so much that you barely got to see, once they were gone. The yelling got louder by the second. Although, I never understood "The truth"... the truth about why this person left so quickly in the blink of an eye. I couldn't understand who let this happened and why they let it happen. I wanted to search for more clues but my voice was so low and unclear who would listen to a girl who is all about fear? The worst thing of all is that my biggest fear of losing everything that I love, began exploding right in front of my eyes... It wasn't the Fourth of July but it sure felt like the explosives would never stop.
The month before I heard the news about the freezing wrinkly man I knew what was going to happen. The day before I prayed as I stood next to him watching him take his last few breaths. I tried to hold in my tears so I wouldn't end up drowning in them. In case you were wondering I didn't pray to keep this man alive. I knew that if he were to live any longer he was going to have to deal with all the stress, danger and sickness's he had already went through. I prayed to keep him safe, this man was not a bad man, he didn't deserve to suffer more than he already had. I prayed to keep him in peace along with my father who had been watching over me since the day he left this world to live a better life above. Although, I did not pray for the cold hands I refused to touch like I did with the wrinkled man. I never understood if it was okay to pray for someone who you've heard might not even make it to the peaceful world. The hands I had refused to touch was not a stranger instead the cold hands was half of my heart. Even though we fell apart slowly these hands had half of the same blood as I did. For this "kid" I prayed not only for him but to help me. I don't ever think my heart would be replaced until I know this kid will be at peace once again. This kid was not a good boy. Although, he was never a really bad boy. Yes he has done terrible things but eventually everyone makes mistakes. Some can be fixed some cannot. In this case... I prayed that I am given a sign for this boy who was half my blood. I prayed that this sign will answer the question I've been wondering about what I've always been taught. "If you were to kill yourself, you would go straight to hell." but what if he didn't go to neither hell or heaven? He was as young as I was. If god had loved his children so much what was the point of giving life to someone for 15% out of 100% of their existence... well I never really understood the whole believe in this and that policy. Which is why I prayed and still do pray that he is able to look after me and everyone else who had loved him like I did. Instead of having him stuck in a place of misery that he had already gone through. He had already had the bruised up, cuts and marks on his throat what else more could he do once he was gone and back to misery...
The story of my great grandfather and brother deaths that lead me to help the world. The struggle of handling two deaths in one week was torture. I will never know the truth about these unexpected deaths that changed my view of life to a whole new perspective. But what I do know is I did not want to give up on my brother nor did I want to see another human commit to a crime done to them self.
