I look into your eyes
These eyes which used to be so full
of life
So happy
So hopeful
Now they are dead.
Eyes are the windows to your soul,
they say.
They show the true feelings of a
person, they say.
Not these eyes.
They are empty.
Empty...
That's the right word. Behind these
eyes isn't a soul, isn't a heart....there's just nothing...darkness!
I watch your eyes and I can't stop
crying.
I know, I never showed that I care
for you. I even didn't realise on myself. You've been a nerving little
brother for me. I had never the idea of telling you that I...love...you.
I didn't know that I love you, that's
it.
And now I don't have the chance to
say it.
Because you can't hear me.
Maybe it would be better when you
had died.
Then we all would have cried, but
after a few months you get used to it and you start laughing again. It
sounds hard, not?
But when I am here and watch you...you
are alive, you breath, but you don't speak.
You don't look at me.
Don't hear me.
How I wish that you yell at me...
That you call me 'Idiot' like you
did it so often.
We used to fight a lot. Our family
is hot-tempered. Fighting and quarrelling is every days life. It's normal.
I said that I can't stand you and
you said that you can't stand me.
That's the usual behaviour between
brothers and sisters. Okay, there are some different...like Tai and Kari,
for example.
Isn't it strange that you never notice
how much something means to you....until you have lost it?
Isn't it always like that?
You notice how wonderful peace is
– after there has been a war.
You see how nice the sun is the shining
– after it has rained for days.
You realise that you love your brother....when
you can't speak to him.
The time is passing by and there's
no change.
Mum and Dad are so sad. They love
you – they didn't show it very often, but they do.
In our family we don't show our feelings.
I wish we did sometimes – maybe then
I wouldn't feel so guilty and helpless now.
I am your big sister, but didn't
protect you. Never. Everybody of us went his own way.
We are both a little bit crazy and
noisy. In fact, we have many things in common.
Very many things.
I know that Mum and Dad miss you.
I miss you, too. I never expected
that I would miss you....
But I do.
*
When I come home from the hospital,
I wish that you would be there, eating ice-cream or watching TV.
And we would argue about soccer
or other stupid things.
But the flat is always empty when
I enter it.
Our parents are at work or with you
in the hospital. And the flat is silent.
I can't stand this silence.
This silence isn't peaceful....it
shows the absence of something important – of you.
Your body is still here, but where
is your soul?
I feel so sorry for the things you've
gone through. They broke you.
You are still a kid, and kids can
be very strong....but they can be broken very easily, and that happened
to you.
You eyes have seen things which
you shouldn't have seen – which nobody should see.
I have seen photos, and it was enough
to give me nightmares.
They did terrible things to you.
To an innocent child.
They destroyed these eyes. Maybe
they will never laugh again.
You are there in the hospital room,
and for me it is as if I would watching a big doll. A doll which looks
similar to my brother Davis.
You are there, deep inside of this
body.
Maybe you are a prisoner in the darkness,
crying, and searching for a way out.
Or maybe you don't want to come back.
I have no idea.
The pictures are hunting me, and
I feel hate....hate for the people who have done such nasty things to my
brother.
Hate for myself that I wasn't there
to protect him like an older sister should do.
Hate for the world that it allows
that such things happen.
If there's a god, how can he allow
that an innocent life is destroyed?
I hate you all!
And I hate these soulless eyes.
Dead eyes.
Empty eyes.
I hate you, and I cry for you.
Do you know that I visit you every
day?
No, you don't know...
I come here after school and spend
the whole afternoon.
I can't do anything, but...I don't
want to go home in the empty flat.
Mum and Dad aren't coming every day....I
think they are a little bit afraid of you.
They are frightened that you will
stay like that for all time.
Your friends visited you, too.
They cried, but you didn't notice
it.
You notice nothing. You just sit
there, apathetic, while the worlds is crying around you.
People have been killed before your
eyes.
And that broke you.
You had to stay over a week in a
small, dirty room with the dead bodies of the people who have been captured
with you.
You have seen their eyes when they
died.
And you nearly died on your own
because of the hunger – and because the terrorists beat you. Hurt you.
They hurt you mentally and physically.
I wish we never went on this stupid
holiday. then nothing of this all could have happened, and you would be
still there, playing soccer, yelling, creaming and laughing.
You wouldn't lie in the hospital
like a doll.
I think Mum and Dad feel guilty that
they went on this holidays.
They think that it's their fault.
But that's wrong. It's the fault
of the terrorists.
I wish them a terrible death. They
earn it.
*
I can't cry. Not now.
There are no tears less.
I cry in the nights when I hear my
mother crying in the bathroom.
It makes me mad to see their worried
faces.
They worry about you, Davis.
Why can't you come back? We are here,
we will help you.
I want to hug you and I want that
you hug me back.
I wouldn't mind if you would sob
into my t-shirt.
I just want to hear your voice again.
Let me help you, lil' brother.
Let me please help you to find a
way out of your pain. There must be a way...and if not?
Things have become so....unimportant.
I don't care about school, about
the weather....even about Matt.
I've ignored Matt....he's just not
important right now. It was a stupid crush, but well, the Motomiya's are
all crazy.
You are important.
Not only for me.
You can't stay like this. You can't!
It will destroy me, my parents and your friends.
No, that's not right. I shouldn't
be angry with you. It's not your fault. I am sure that you want your life
come back to normal.
But it's very difficult to assemble
something which is broken. And it will never look like it has been before.
I am not a good sister.
I did many things which I regret
now, but you can't change the past.
But the thing I regret the most is
that I never said you this single sentence....short, but very important...
I never told you that I love you...
And now it might be too late...
To be continued.......
Okay, that's the first part..
It's kinda depressing, I know*sobs*....just love to write such stories!
Please give me ideas for the
next parts....and if you know a better title....THEN TELL ME! This title
is so stupid, but I couldn't think of anything better...I am open for any
suggestions! (you can mail me as well: dragonbeing@hotmail.com)
And, I tell it once again, I am
German and learn English only in school, so I am sorry for my mistakes!
Thanks for reading, and I would
be really happy if you review it!
:) Kaeera