Before.
I remember. I remember not having black hole in my chest, one that when I think about it and acknowledge it's existence it burns and makes my whole body hurt. It sucks me in, the blackness and the pain in my chest and it makes me cry. It makes me miss my brother and be willing to give anything in the world to have him back.
I was there. We all were. The images, they haunt me, but I know that deep down I would have hated not being there. My hand on his head, whispering it would be okay and it's not going to hurt anymore and that we'd take care of everything. I tried to stop myself from screaming 'no', because I knew that nothing was in my control. Feeling helpless. I left the room, and stood outside to the sad eyes of nurses. I walked down the hallway in a daze, trying to make sense of the most awful moment of my entire life. I think about it and see it in my head and the hole in my chest grows and threatens to swallow me.
I never imagined it would hurt like this. It is so much worse than I ever anticipated.
