A Curse and a Gift

A Curse and a Gift

He stands in the dark, lingering. Always linger. Faceless, but his cold, menacing eyes illuminate from the depth of the abyss.

He’s gone now. My attention is diverted to a lonely, deserted road. There’s no sign of life anywhere. It’s pitch dark and I’m walking. I don’t know where I’m going, but I have to get out of this darkness. A cold, unsettling breeze emerges from a warm, summer’s night. I feel chills rising through my spine. “Something’s wrong.” I walk for a considerable amount of time. Finally, out of nowhere I see a speck of light. I get closer. A somber crowd stands in a circle with their heads down, as if at a funeral. Two cars, a red Pontiac Firebird, and a silver Toyota Celica, had lost control and gotten into a terrible collision. They look familiar. I force my way through the spellbound, immobile crowd. My heart beat fastens to a thousand beats per minute. I drop to my knees in hysteria. “Kelvin! Kelvin! Not you too! Please don’t do this to me!” He lays there. Face up towards a glorious sky. There are millions of stars out tonight. But I haven’t noticed them. He just lays there. His hands folded and resting on his thigh, he lays in a pool of blood, on the dry, brown earth. He hasn’t suffered any substantial physical injuries from what I can see. He looks peaceful, so peaceful, in eternal repose. I can still recognize him. He’s 6’1, with a dark, chocolate complexion, an athletic build and a handsome face. He is my brother. Claudia, a close friend of mine, comes up to me in tears. She puts her arms around me and says “I’m so sorry.” She and Kelvin, both proud thrill-seekers were racing. She has survived the collision. My brother is gone.

I woke up sweating and distraught, in tears. My heart was still racing. I frantically recited psalm 23, the Lord’s Prayer. After that, I grabbed the television remote which I had placed under my collection of stuff animals and turned on the television to Cartoon Network. Tom and Jerry was being showed. I reached for my journal which lay next to the remote on my bed, and began to write.

Imagine losing your uncle, cousin and a very close family friend in one year. Better yet, imagine losing four people that are very dear to you in a three year time span.