Five Years Ago...

I can’t think, I can’t breathe. “Oh God.” Just a few days ago it was homework, a science test coming up. Now it’s blood, seeping black through my fingers in pulsing waves. It’s hot and sticky. I think I’m going to puke. I’m seeing stars.

I’m screaming.

“No! Dammit, Marty! No! Shit, somebody help me, please! Help!” My throat goes raw before someone finally comes. “Call 911! Call fucking 911!” I yell at whoever it is. My voice cracks in the middle of ‘fucking,’ but for once I hardly notice.

Too many holes, I can’t cover them all. No matter how I spread my fingers I can’t reach all the places I need to put pressure on. My muscles start to cramp and I swing my head around, looking for relief that may never come.

I nearly jump out of my skin when something brushes my arm. It’s Marty’s hand. He’s looking at me. I still recognize him, but he seems so different, so defeated. He’s scared. The wild panic in his eyes betrays him. I think he’s trying to speak, his mouth opens a little, but only a gurgling sound and a trickle of blackness come out. He’s barely breathing through all the liquid seeping into his lungs, the disturbing rasp coming from his chest scares me more than the blood. He shakes his head at me, he’s telling me ‘no.’

“What? What, Marty? I can’t help it, you have to go to the hospital, you’re gonna die,” I choke, tears obscuring my view of his formerly strong-featured face that’s crumpled with pain and drained of color under the streetlights.

He shakes his head again, squeezing my arm with strength he shouldn’t possess anymore. He tenses up, from his thick forearms and biceps to the muscles in his jaw and cheeks. His nostrils flair with each breath, he presses his lips together, making a real effort to gather his inner strength in order to do something important. What, exactly, I don’t know. For all his effort only a muffled moan escapes him. His eyes never leave my face but they’re starting to glaze over. I see the single tear that rolls down his cheek from one hazel eye, feel the slight squeeze on my arm, then I’m torn away by paramedics and tossed to the side.

I curl up on the pavement and sob like I haven’t done since I was a little kid.

My big brother’s gonna die right here on the street.

He won’t be around to protect me no more.