Deathbed Lessons

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve... It took him twelve seconds before breathing again.

If there is any power I want to possess at this moment, it would be the power to heal. The flesh color fluid dripping out from the small tube is slower in every minute. On the other side of the bed, my mother sobs and stares blankly at the wall on her right. Since he was ill, my mother has been working hard to provide for our family. Worst, this could be another heavy burden for her to carry.

Everything is coming back to me like flashes of light. The unexplainable feeling that something inevitable will soon happen. The night seems like forever so as the waiting. But if it's forever, let it be, rather than a moment will come that we will lose him.

As I stare at his still body, the moments are coming back to me - his lessons, hard lessons that made me the boy I am now...

(Currently under editing and reconstruction.)