Scariest Night of my life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is based on a true story. This is what I have truly been through. I hope you all feel how I have felt.

Submitted: February 24, 2012

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Submitted: February 24, 2012




Scariest Night of My Life

December 24th, 2002, 11:30 pm. It was the time when one of my brothers, Mosabbir, had a seizure. We were all looking forward to a wonderful Christmas, but none of us knew that it will be the scariest night in our lives. Mosabbir was 17 at this time. He was on his treatment for his brain tumor. Chemotherapy, radiotherapy, was nothing unusual for him. Even we got used to those big words. None of us were aware of the side effects that are caused by this. Why would we be aware? Mosabbir never complained of any pains he was going through. My dad was out of town. He was actually on his way to Bangladesh.

That night before Christmas, we were all together in my apartment. Little as it seems, but it sure was capable of holding many people. We were having a gathering. Right after everyone left, I and Mosabbir were checking out things my mom bought when she went shopping earlier that day. I remember him claiming a new picture album to be his. But two things were missing. There were two different colored shirts that he requested mom to get him. The colors were tropical green and pure blue. She said she couldn’t find them but she promised him she will get him those soon. When it was time to sleep, he tried to get in between me and mom. As we were messing around with each other, I remember Mosabbir heading towards the bathroom. He was complaining to mom about him feeling unusual. It was the first time in one and half years that he was complaining about him feeling a little awkward. The way he said it didn’t seem serious at all and therefore, me and mom took it easy. He then headed toward the bathroom. I still remember the smile he had on his face before going.

Minutes passed, hours passed and he never came out. Frustrated as she was, my mom knocked on the bathroom door, but heard nothing. She then realized the door was unlocked. Afraid to see herself, she asked my cousin to go check. My cousin then went in and came out saying Mosabbir is sleeping in there. Hearing him, she rushed into the bathroom. As soon as she went in all I heard from the room was a loud, unfamiliar sound coming from Mosabbir. Hearing him and my mom scream, I ran out. My aunt on the other hand, rushed from her prayers to see what happened. All I remember is her coming up to me and screaming on my face about how it all happened. Cold as I was, I turned even colder. Tears, screams, frustration, all existed in our house at that night. Blood was all I felt, rolling down my eyes. I was out of my mind and had no movement. My other brother was the one who dialed 911. Since it was the night before Christmas it was hard to get the emergency line.

Fifteen minutes later I saw them coming in with all their emergency kits. One of the guys asked me where the injured person was. All I remember doing is pointing out to the room far away where Mosabbir was laying in front of the bathroom door, covered with a blanket. Fire trucks, ambulances all were waiting outside the door with their sirens on. I remember those emergency guys saying they tried to electrify him in order to gain his senses. Right at that point I had a flash-back. It was the time when Mosabbir came up to me after the first day he went for the CT scan. He was describing me about the size and the pain of the shot he had to take before doing the scan. Standing in the lighted apartment, I was wondering what he is thinking now after getting electrified.

At last I saw my brother. He was being carried on a bed by those people. The eyes of his were staring at me, asking for help, but were speechless. I followed my brother downstairs. I can still feel the snow dropping on me. Walking without a jacket or shoes, I saw my brother getting pulled into those two ambulance doors. The lights, the sirens, all went on and there they were headed toward the hospital. That was the last time I saw my brother recognizing me, because after that seizure, he lost his memory, and in a matter of three months, I lost him. 


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