Wistful Secret

Ben:2

I never thought my wish would come true. I wish it hadn't come true . But it did and I will blame myself for it the rest of my life.

A few days after the play, me and Ben were playing in the park.

We wandered a bit farther. Mom had gone a bit farther and we just wandered the road. And out if nowhere there came a car.

I saw it before Ben. I could have warned him, but there was no time. As I uttered those words teg car hit and ran away.

I saw Ben lie in a pool of blood, He called my name, but my legs didn't move. I was scared, agitated, helpless but there was a tiny part of me, a small one, for all those years of neglect that wanted him gone.

I stood there and watched his life drain out of him. I was in shock, maybe but I didn't speak. It was only when the crowd assembled and paramedics called that I called for mom.

Mum, with me in tow rushed to the hospital. Dad followed soon after. We had Ben in the hospital. One night was all he had left.

The doctors tried everything, but because of the blood loss and the serious head injury, he could not survive. Maybe, if the blood loss was a little less, he would have been able to make it. If I had called someone sooner, had I moved, had I not condemned him and guided him to the death of doors myself.

It was only after he passed away, I realized what he meant to me. He made me laugh, loved me and sheltered me, but I could not take back my decision. I had already killed him, and along with him, I had given away my happiness, my peace and my innocence, which,like him would never return again.

I didn't speak after the accident, not for a month and when I did, all I said was, " I killed my brother"

My parents were in a dark place themselves. They could not even bear to look at me without seeing Ben. They saw the shadow of their dead son in me.

They left me alone more and more. They buried themselves in work and I was left alone almost all the time. Overtime, I hid my emotions, became what Ben was. I became perfect, but to my parents every good thing I did was a reminder of their beloved son. They didn't want to talk to me, and neither did I. Our relationship was severed. They don't bother for me, and nor I for them.

Sometimes when I laugh, I remember Ben. With every new friend I make, I feel I will destroy them like I did with Ben.

Sometimes I think my parents know I killed him, the way they look at me, and sometimes I see him in my dreams  demanding answers, forgiving me, and sometimes promising me, he will be the best brother, but I can never ever take that back. I am a betrayer, what I did with Ben, I don't believe myself anymore. I am a wretched person.