SEPTEMBER’S AHSES

The sun was shining just as it used to do every day. Life was just as it used to be. The days kept passing by, sometimes too fast to realize they have passed. Yesterday seemed as though it never existed. Life was unclear, but it seemed to make some sense. It was so cold and you were so numb, you really couldn’t feel things around you. Future was your worst fear. You were so scared of tomorrow; you were so attached to yesterday. All this confusion around you meant nothing; life was going on. You only knew one thing; you only could change, everything just stays the same. You were the only prayer for your loneliness. The incision was deep inside you. Your heart was your bar-less prison. Suddenly, death came out of nowhere. It was your turn to live mournful. It was your turn to live the incision. Memories were all you got. They were the only thing from the past. Memories seemed to be made winding in your head. Waxing eternal night entered your soul. You had a foot in your past and a foot in your future. You heard voices around you telling you to go on. Benighted…

Death came so fast, you didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye. You didn’t have the chance to say that last good bye. Life is unfair… You were so scared of your worst fears. Suddenly what you once feared the most became the fact you had to live with. Sometimes, when you face what you fear the most, you fear nothing anymore. You are the only child, but you didn’t have the chance to say goodbye to your father. You didn’t have the chance to draw an image in your head that will last forever. You feel the eyes staring upon you. You feel their eyes full of pity. You don’t need the pity of anyone. You convince yourself that you’re strong. You may look strong from the outside, but you’re torn apart from the inside. You decide to go on… Life is never the same. Each day is a new day. You realize you’re only living for the day. You may never see the sun of tomorrow shine. You have only memories of yesterday. You are just too young to hold all that weight on your shoulders. You feel your blood boiling, but you could do nothing. Alone you stand… Born alone, die alone. The life around you is just like a garden. You are surrounded by people who are the flowers of that garden. Some flowers are sweet, some are not, but sure there is one thing true; each flower has its own thorn. Some thorns are soft and don’t hurt, but some wound you so deep. Those wounds remain. Days can never erase them or ease their pain. It’s hard to find people to trust, but when you do find them, you try your best to hold onto them.

What hurts the most is when the time comes and you don’t find them. They turn their back on you. They close the doors in your face; the doors that are already closed. You wish to relive that day, only to have the chance to say goodbye and take that last glance but it’s just impossible; it’s the day that never comes. All this is nothing. Emptiness is filling you. “Life is ours, we live it our way…”. Your life is stretching ahead of you, but you can’t see your path. This path seems to blur. Everything seems to fade to black. The weight on your shoulders is pushing on you. There is no space to breathe… Here you are; still alive. But still the image of that fresh dug grave remains engraved in you. Suddenly someone so close to you was sealed in that grave forever. You could see him no more. The only way to visit him was to visit that tombstone he lay beneath. You think about what you’ve lost and gained; you’ve lost everything, but you’ve gained nothing. You want to stand back on your feet, but your legs are shaky. You’re like a needle mislaid in burning hay. It’s sad, but it’s true. You need someone, someone to talk, someone to cry for; you find no one. It was a long September. It was a cold September, although literally it was so hot. Tears fell, but they were just like fuel keeping the fire ablaze inside you. Broken, beat, agonized, mournful, tired, lonely, sick, surrendering, lost, confused… The fire of September just kept burning. It still burns till today. The ashes of that fire are the only memorial of that September. September’s ashes…

Mohammed Jamil Trabulsy    HOME

                                                                                            3^rd Secondary