The Brightest Day

On a Saturday in February, I went to play football in the park with Antonio; he was my grandfather's best friend who over the years had become like another grandfather to me. He always played with me on Saturday mornings, and that day was no exception.

On the way to the park, we talked about when I was younger and how he remembered the day I was born. He said he would never forget: it had been one of the happiest days of his life. He told me about when he was young, what the world was like in those days and it was different.

So we were about to cross the avenue when the ball in my hands slipped. Antonio did not hesitate and ran behind the ball, I looked to the side and I saw that a truck was coming, so I ran to him to push him. That was when I felt as if for a second time had stopped and everything was happening in slow motion.

When I opened my eyes I saw white, a lot of white. I turned my head and saw my grandfather sitting in the corner with one hand on his head. I said, “Grandpa, what happened? Where we are?”

He came up and kissed me on the head, he looked at me with love, but I noticed concern in his eyes.

“Everything will be fine love, now rest.”

I wanted to ask where Antonio was; I wanted to understand what had happened but I didn't have the strength to do it. I think it was my subconscious or my senses - I didn't really know - but deep down I was hearing voices. After a moment the words started to take shape, and although I couldn’t see anything or move, I understood what those words meant. Antonio was fine, he had a few bumps and broken bones but he was fine. Hearing that brought me peace and lifted a weight off me.

I think a few days passed while I still couldn't move. I think that day I saw my grandfather was the last time I saw someone, that I felt someone. I listened to everything but my eyes did not open, my muscles could not move, my mouth could not utter a word. I heard that because of my age the safest thing was that I was going to get ahead, that until now I was entering the middle of life and that I had more strength than ever. Nevertheless, I felt the opposite. As days passed I began to feel the pain of every part of my body and I just wanted it to disappear.

Years cannot be synonymous with weakness but also with strength.

One day I heard Antonio's voice and I think it was the best feeling I had in days, I felt his hand hold mine, and I instantly felt my face wet, a tear was falling from my eyes but it was not me who controlled it. Tears came out by themselves. Those tears meant a lot, they were that joy of knowing that Antonio was fine and they were also fear because he felt that he would not get out of this.

I could only think about what would happen if I die. Is there anything after death? Those were questions that I couldn't answer until it happened. Death is a mystery to life and can only be deciphered the moment it comes for you.

Again I opened my eyes and I also saw white, but it was not the white of the hospital paint, it was a deep white without end. It was then that millions of images of my life invaded that target, millions of memories, and lived experiences. It felt like I was floating in the middle of memories, they passed in front of me as if I were reviving them but they were extinguishing.

It was then that I understood that death had come for me, it was different from what I had imagined but there are no words to explain it. It is the transformation of the body and soul. Only those who experience it can understand it.

Laura Gómez Gómez, 10B