Chương 4: Chapter 4: A cry for help

The day for me to be discharged arrived, i felt like I was stepping into the world for the first time, like a new-born taking those first steps. Everything around me felt very lively, bright, vivid, as if the universe had been reborn alongside myself. The rays of the sun danced across my delicate skin, wrapping me in a blanket of warmth, feeling me with happiness that I hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity.

We had to walk home due to my mother insisting on it, She explained how it would help me reconnect with my surroundings, to remember the world I was once familiar with. But as we walked, I realized that the world felt alien to me, almost as if I had stepped into a different reality. My soul, still weighed down by suffering, clashed with my mind, which strangely perceived this new world as wonderful rather than painful, a contradiction I couldn't easily overcome.

The walk home felt quite long, each step was a reminder of how different the world seemed. We walked through some streets that should have been familiar, yet every corner, every building, felt like it belonged to an alternate reality. I kept searching for a connection, something to remind and anchor me, but the more I searched, the more distant it all felt.

Finally, we arrived at our small apartment, a place I was familiar with but could never truly call home. It was more like a safe zone, a place to rest and eat, but not a sanctuary. As I stood in front of the door, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of detachment. This was the place where I had spent so much of my life, yet it feels alien and distant, a place that I did not belong to.

In the days that followed, I stayed mostly in my room, trying to make sense of the emotions that churned inside me. The familiar surroundings of my room did little to comfort me. Everything felt wrong, as though I was living in a version of my life that didn't quite fit. The sadness and uneasiness that had settled in my chest refused to leave, a constant reminder of the pain that had brought me to this point.

But slowly, as the days passed, I began to understand these feelings. The sadness, the unease, these were reminders of everything I had been through, the weight of the memories I couldn't yet face. But they are part of me now, a constant companion in this new world I was trying to navigate. The suffering hadn't ended, but now, I could see it for what it was, A reminder that I was still alive, that I had survived, even if just barely.

And so, I stayed in my room, wrestling with the heaviness in my heart, trying to piece together the fragments of myself that had been shattered. this wasn't easy, and it didn't happen all at once, but slowly, I began to accept the reality of these emotions, I saw them as something not to be feared, but to be understood. I was still lost, still struggling to find myself, but for the first time, I felt like there was a path forward, even if it was a painful one.

Hours on end, I spent alone in my room, I found myself diving deep into the recesses of my shattered mind, searching for the reasons that made me believe this world wasn't worth living in. sifting through my memories, emotions, and the fragments of my broken self, trying to make sense of the overwhelming darkness that had taken hold of me.

Finally I pieced together the missing shards of my past, the picture that emerged was painfully clear. My family members, the ones who should have been my source of strength and anchor to this world, had unknowingly become one of the reasons I felt so isolated, Forsakened and so hopeless. The weight of their expectations, the distance that had grown between us, and the lack of understanding, they all contributed to the emptiness that consumed me.

But even as these realizations came to the surface, I knew that this was a conversation for another time. The wounds were still too fresh, the pain too raw to confront just yet. I wasn't ready to face the full extent of what had driven me to the edge. It was enough, for now, to acknowledge that these feelings existed, that they were a part of me.

I tucked those thoughts away, saving them for a moment when I might have the strength to confront them head-on. For now, all I could do was sit with the knowledge, let it simmer in the back of my mind, and hope that one day, I would find the courage to face it all without breaking apart.

My mother and sister were distant, their conversations tinged with awkwardness that hadn't been there before. Every time I asked about my best friend Abraham, they hesitate and try to avoid my questions by switching the subject. But finally, one day, my sister broke her silence, seems she finds it quite hard to hold secrets, something i wouldn't know about.

"Michael, something happened to him," she said, her voice trembling, with her eyes avoiding mine.

"Something happened?" I replied with confusion and dread creeping in my voice.

"I don't think he's able to visit anymore," she said, her eyes welling with tears.

"Why? Is he grounded?" I asked.

"No, he isn't. But something happened," she took a slowly deep breath.

"After you fell into the coma, Abraham heard the news. And you know how stubborn he is…"

I felt the cold wave turn into a tidal wave, crashing over me.

"What happened to him?" I requested, understanding now that something terrible must have occurred.

"He was hit by a car while rushing to the hospital," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "He didn't make it. I'm so sorry."

"You're joking, right? Abraham isn't that stupid!" I cried, my voice breaking, unable to accept the reality of what I just heard.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, her tears falling freely now.

My own tears fell, unstoppable, blurring the world around me. The pain was too much, too overwhelming, a suffocating weight on my chest. I tried to wipe them away, but more kept coming, as if the universe itself wanted me to cry. I screamed, the sound so raw and desperate, and ran out of the house, into the night. The moon and stars watched in silence, a celestial mourning that echoed my own grief. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, I couldn't stop running, and somehow, my legs carried me to the last place I wanted to be.

I stood before Abraham's house, my heart heavy in my hands, my tears unrelenting. I collapsed to my knees, consumed by a grief so profound it hollowed me out from the inside. I was truly alone. I had lost the one person I considered family, the one person who had always been there for me. "When will the suffering end?" I wondered, my voice lost in the silence of the night.

The door opened, and Abraham's mother stepped out. She stood there, watching me cry, my head bowed low, as low as my heart. I felt a hand on my shoulder, cold and gentle, accompanied by a voice filled with sorrow.

"I know it's hard, but I don't think he would want his best friend to cry like this," she said softly, as her voice trembles.

Her words broke me, and I cried even harder, my body shaking with the force of it. She knelt beside me, pulling me into a warm embrace, an unimaginable warmth that somehow made the pain even sharper. Then, I felt the cold droplets of her tears, they joined mine, a stream of shared grief. She held me, and we cried together, Two souls, both broken by the loss of someone we loved so deeply.

The next day, after waking from the brief escape called sleep, I prepared for school. My body was healed, but my heart was shattered, broken beyond repair. I knew I had to return, I had to face the world, even though it felt unbearable, even though the thought of it made me sick, even if it caused me pain. Another wave of sadness crashed over me, but I steeled myself. I planned to release it all at Abraham's funeral, my pain, my suffering, my frustration. just as I always did when he was here to listen. But how could I release the pain when he isn't here to listen? How could I survive without him, my anchor?

Once again, my mother was absent, as was my sister. I was alone in the house, and I thought about ending it all again, joining Abraham wherever he was, i thought about escaping this world that seemed so intent on breaking me. But a voice echoed in my mind, a soft whisper in the darkness.

"He would be disappointed," this thought stopped me from doing anything drastic. I had to hold on, I had to hold on until I could say goodbye, until I knew he was at peace, until...

"Ah, I'm crying again," with a sorrowful smile, my tears began falling like rain.

"Why can't I stop crying? When will all this pain end? Was I brought into this world just to suffer? Is this the purpose of my wretched existence?"

I wiped my tears and forced myself to stand tall, even though my spirit was crumbling inside, my body is ready to move. but all this was the consequence of my actions. If I hadn't tried to end my life, Abraham would still be here. He wanted to live, and I wanted to die, so why was it him who had to go?

But maybe now, I thought, maybe now I can finally see him again. I can finally apologize for everything, for being weak, for not holding on like he asked me to.

The ocean is still so peaceful, its waves a soft lullaby, a gentle pull toward the unknown. with close my eyes and mind a fading, I imagine it, the sound of the ocean bed, as I drift toward the place where my friend is waiting, where I might find some semblance of peace.

But as I drift, something holds me back, something deep within me that refuses to let go. I see his face, smiling, laughing, full of life, and it stops me. "I'm sorry," I thought, my voice echoed in the mind, carried by the last last signals of my life. "I'm sorry I couldn't be stronger. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I let you down."

The ocean was gentle, lapping at my skin, soothing the ache in my chest. But they are not enough to take away the pain, the overwhelming sorrow that has become a part of me.