My liver had ruptured, and my
mother had my bruised brother
treated.
Jason and I were in a car accident. My heart
was ruptured, and I needed surgery, badly. But
Mom, the hospital director, called all the
doctors to Jason’s room. He had a minor
scratch, but they ran a full–body scan on him. I
begged Mom to help me, but she snapped,
“Can you pick a better time for your drama? Do
you know your brother almost fractured a
bone?!” I died alone, unnoticed. But when Mom,
who hated me most, learned of my death, she
lost her mind.
- 1.
Three minutes before I died, my spirit floated to
Mom’s side. She was by Jason’s bed, praying
worriedly, “Jay–Jay, honey, don’t scare Mommy.
Please wake up.”
<
12:00
Dad was furious. “If that little punk Jason hadn’t been messing around, Jay–Jay wouldn’t be like this! I’ll beat him senseless when I see him!”
I watched, a wave of bitterness washing over
- me. Dad, you don’t have to. I’m already dead. Dead because of your indifference.
Doctors huddled around Jason. Once they
confirmed it was just a bruised bone, an older
doctor cautiously asked, “Director, are we really
not going to check on Jason? His injuries
seemed much worse.”
The concern on Mom’s face turned to disgust.
“What’s his new trick now? Playing dead? He
doesn’t even care how badly he hurt his
brother!”
I stared at her, a sharp pang in my dead heart.
Was I, their son, really this worthless to them?
Suddenly, Mom called my phone. A nurse held it
<
12:00
694
to my ear. Instead of the concern I craved, I heard the familiar venom, “Jason, when are you going to apologize to your brother?”
My heart turned to ice. Yeah, she didn’t care. When they brought me in, I begged her to save me. She’d just said, “Can you pick a better time for your attention–seeking? Do you know your brother almost fractured a bone?!” Then she’d left with the doctors to attend to Jason.
Where was the love for me?
The nurse, unable to stand it, took the phone. “Director, Jason is really fading fast.”
But Mom, convinced I was faking, scoffed,
“How much did that brat pay you to play along?
I didn’t know he had it in him!”
Just then, Jason, who’d been pretending to be
unconscious, woke up. In a weak voice, he
asked, “Mom, Dad, how’s Jason?”
<
Mom, looking at her sweet, caring Jason, grew even more disgusted. “Jason, why can’t you be more like your brother? He’s worried about you even though you put him here. Get down here and apologize in three minutes, or don’t bother
coming home again!”
She slammed the phone down, chest heaving.
Dad grumbled, “Why call him? Hasn’t he hurt
Jay–Jay enough?”
With a smug look that he quickly masked with
guilt, Jason said, “Mom, Dad, don’t be mad.
Jason’s still upset about me getting the
scholarship to study abroad. He has a right to
be angry…”
I laughed bitterly. Even in death, Jason was still
driving a wedge between me and my parents.
But they’d never see it. To them, Jason was
always the obedient, perfect child. They’d never
consider that Jason had shoved me into
oncoming traffic.
