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I MISS SEEING HIM IN SCHOOL EVERYDAY

The bullet hit him like a ton of bricks. Brandon looked down at his stomach and saw his bloodstained T-Shirt. He gazed unbelievingly at the boy stood a few metres in front of him, before hitting the ground. He fell down and felt nothing except a stinging pain. He couldn’t do anything but look up to heaven. The minutes seemed like eternities.

Brandon thought of that time when he was a little boy, when he had been living with his grandparents. Grandpa was very ill but still alive and Grandma had nursed him as well as she could. She always gave her best to make sure that Grandpa and Brandon could always enjoy their lives. She was a great old lady.

Brandon felt this pain again. He tried hopelessly to stand up — without success. Every movement was an agony. He had no choice but to lie there.

He remembered that time when he went to school. The teachers were proud of him because he was one of the best pupils. He always had good marks and did his homework every day. Then he thought of his friends Mark, Curtis and Anna. They were Brandon’s individual friends. It was always great to do things with them. They had a lot of fun and sometimes they did crazy things like dancing in the pedestrian predict and all. And if Brandon was sad they consoled him and he was very grateful for this. “They’re great,” he thought. “I’ll never... ahhh....”

Now there it was again. This stinging pain in his chest. It seemed like a big needle was stuck in him. Again and again.

Brandon twisted his head slowly. He saw the image of his mother. She was a wonderful woman with long curly hair and brown eyes. Whenever Brandon saw his mother she smiled. But then he saw Grandma’s house. He saw the police car. The police officers told him his Mum had been killed by persons unknown — probably men. They were all shocked and Grandma cried all night long.

Brandon often thought about his mother and her murderers. Who where they? Who had destroyed her life and the life of Brandon? His mother was a prostitute so she probably had a lot of enemies. She did that job only to get more money. That’s why he grew up with his Grandparents.

As he thought of his beloved mother he heard voices. It seemed that these voices were far away or maybe unreal.

Brandon turned his head again and saw some policemen and the ambulance crew. They came as soon as they could to where Brandon lay.

Then he was thinking about his Dad. He had never got the chance to see him and so he didn’t get to know him. Who was that man who fathered him? Until today he had never got an answer to this question and in all probability he never will.

Brandon looked around slowly and saw the ambulance crew struggling to save him. He felt that the men wanted to help him and he felt at the same time that every part of his body was becoming heavier.

Tears began to run down his cheeks. He remembered when he started to take drugs. Marihuana and Cocaine. He was only 14 years old. At first he used them once a week. But after a few weeks it was nearly every day. He had debts which he couldn’t pay back. So Brandon was punished by Roy, his dealer. Roy was the same age as Brandon, only 17 but one of the boys who got a lot of respect. After he was punished Brandon went to the hospital. He felt very bad. His nose and three ribs were broken, he had a heavy concussion and a black eye. He stayed there for two days and then he went home. Grandma was very worried about him. She knew he took drugs and so she was very angry. Grandma decided to support Brandon and gave him some money. So he could pay his debts. But he just ended up in more trouble. He started to deal drugs for Roy and neglected his real friends. Now he remembered what happened today. He was trying to sell drugs to a boy who couldn’t pay. Brandon didn’t give him the Marihuana. The boy took out a weapon. Brandon thought of the pain he felt when the bullet hit.

Brandon began to get cold and his breathe became heavier. “I will die,” he thought, “I will die and that’s my own fault.”

He remembered the words is mother always said: “Life is too short, Brandon. Don’t play with it.” He had never thought about that but now he knew what she had meant. He did a lot of bad things in his short life. He never thought about the consequences. He wanted to do so many things and wanted his dreams to come true.

Since he was a little boy, maybe six or seven years old, he wanted to become a doctor. He wanted to travel around the world and get to know other cultures. But now it’s over. He will die at the age of 17.

Brandon noticed that his heartbeat was slowing and he couldn’t keep his eyes open any more. His thoughts belonged to his Grandparents and mother. “I’m sorry that I disappointed you so much. Please forgive me.” These were the last thoughts of Brandon before he closed his eyes forever.

The ambulance crew couldn’t do anymore. Brandon was dead. He was killed because of his trade in drugs.

His friends Curtis, Mark and Anna visit his grave even today. His Grandparents are still alive and often remembered their Grandson. Curtis wrote in his diary: “I miss seeing him at school, eyeryday.”



© Julia Peculiar, 2006





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