Rinad Hassan – I Remember

106

The sorrow accumulating in me, increasing every second I breathe, the remorse that’s dwelling on my mistakes, and the burden of my wrongdoings, that I have to carry for the rest of my life. The horrid path of my inaccuracies I have to relentlessly walk through. It is all because I—I did something; I did something bad, truly unforgivable.

It all traces back to the awful memories of that night, embedded deeply in my head, making me re-live every second of it all over again. I tell you—I fear it. I fear it coming and sinking me into sub-consciousness.

It was the car, a red-burgundy one, I recall from my memory. It’s the reason behind my misery, and the cause of the tragedy. I get in, like every other time.  I drive through the dim streets at night. But this time it all felt different. My guts were telling me something ominous was going to happen, and I tell you, my guts are always right. Yet the eagerness of life clouded my judgement. If only I could go back to undo that, I would. But I was already there, at the front step of his door, waiting patiently for him to get in the car, and he did.

I remember eyeing that familiar face of his, a face I can never subtract from my memory. It was pure innocence. His soul, it was blissful, and his character impeccable. All of that I took away.

We were in the car, and I was driving, blasting music, lip-syncing, recording every minute of it, I swear. But it all happened in a split second.  I— I lost control. All I was able to do was shut my eyes, SHUT THEM FOR GOOD. My life was over, I thought. And it didn’t even flash before my eyes. Though, through all of that I was able to hear his voice. Not only that, but his last words to me. The ones that cut me this deep, too deep, leaving me scarred. His voice felt like music to my ears, and in that moment I blanked.

That was the last bit of him engraved in my memory. It was the last memory we shared. All because of me. All because I didn’t trust my instincts. And I will forever feel this hatred for myself because I took the life of my dearest childhood friend, who I called a brother, and always will.