NadechYaya: Lighthouse

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Nadech

Most of the time, we find ourselves wishing for death, wishing for everything to just stop and disappear. Especially on times when the going gets quite rough.

But even though our thoughts are filled with the constant "I just want to die now" mantras, when the world finally decides to give a taste of what we're looking for, we feel a sudden burst of offset fear. The fear of disappearing, the fear of actually dying for real. When you no longer can ever return to a world you say you hate, but a place you'd want to hold on to.

As I saw the light fade away from my sight, feeling my body spiralling down the ground, I felt a tinge of fear as I've narrowed down on my fate. I knew my time was coming, but nothing really prepares you for it even after you've kept on convincing yourself that you're ready.

Because in reality, you're never really ready for anything at all.

The steady beeps of the heart monitor fill the silent room, the dim lights illuminating the blue hue of the walls.

"I swear, if you died on me." Mark grumbles for the hundredth time on the seat directly in front of me. I let out a breath and look away, slightly annoyed of his whining. I couldn't blame him though, but it's starting to annoy what's left of the life in me.

"You better get used to it." He pushes the chair back with the back of his knees as he abruptly stands up, storming towards me with an expression mixed with so much fear and anger.

"Nadech, what the hell is wrong with you?" He exasperates, his voice already worn down, his shoulders now dragging from his defeat. He looks at me with so much sincere worry and sadness, and for a moment there, I felt so guilty for putting him in a disposition like this one.

"There's so many of us here, wanting to help you. Wanting to care for you. Yet, you pull yourself away from all of us. There so many of us who want you here, who want you to live. Yaya, Me. I want you to live." His voice cracks at the near end of his words, his head hanging low as he palms his forehead.

"I don't want to hurt anyone." I say in a whisper, staring right at him as he looks at me.

"But that doesn't give you the right to hurt yourself instead. You're hurting us more if you rob us of the chance to actually be with you." He walks over to me, defeated in demeanor. He kneels on the ground, taking my hand. His sudden gesture catches me off guard, making sit up as I try to stop him. 

"What are you doing? Get up." I try to pull him up, but he just hangs his head low and rests it on my hand. "You're my only family left, I don't want to lose my brother." I hear a faint sob before he gets up, hanging his head low as he wipes his tears. 

He looks at me and I couldn't help but smile. I push his hand away, shaking my head. "You've always been a crybaby." He stares at me for a while before he breaks into a smile, looking away. "Shut up."

"I'm still mad at you though. I told you, if something happens, don't take me to this hospital." he looks at me seriously and huffs out a breath. "Did you want me to take you directly to a graveyard?" He pierces his lips, his hands on his waist. 

"You know what I mean, Mark." He looks away, walking back and forth. "This was the fastest hospital to get to." I look at him seriously, crossing my arms over my chest. "We both know it's not." He scratches the back of his head and lets out a loud breath. "Okay fine." He flails his hands on the air.