Watershed

• Kaira Francisco, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2017

I was nine at the time, my mum had gotten out of the shower clutching her chest saying she didn't feel well. We thought nothing of it then, but little did I know that mama had a mild heart attack, and it was about to be the most hectic, upsetting half year so far of my life. Spending months on end in hospitals, smelling hospital antiseptic and forever sensing the perpetual gloomy lingering feeling of death, lifelessness engulfed my being. Then it dawned on me, was I about to lose the only other parent I had left? Call me crazy or over dramatic, maybe it was my vivid nine year old imagination, but even at such a young age I had grown accustomed to feeling left.

While everyone around me could only complain about not being able to go to a birthday party or not being in style, I was envious. I wish I had their problems. Sure, there were people suffering worse than me, but that didn't make it any easier, when someone's more worse off than you at something, like a game, does that make you any better at it? It wasn't a question of selfishness or self-pity as such, it was just not being able to find someone to put the blame on except for myself, despite nothing being my fault.

At this time there was a certain person in my life who was being just as affected as I was, so much so that he began losing faith in everything and everyone around him, including God. Eventually he lost faith completely and drowned himself in work, but it was never enough. It was like there were barely any people that cared about or for him and his issues, and the ones that did care just started caring less, and less, until they stopped caring at all. The brother that had been my rock and always supported loved ones when they needed him, he had slowly let himself go. He felt an emptiness inside that couldn't be filled until the cold vacant bed in the main bedroom would finally be occupied by a warm body - once absent, now back home.
I had questions for him, a list of endless questions that I still wish I could ask.

At such a young age, I was so ambitious, I had so much I wanted to do but I couldn't think of just how I would be able to achieve it. Then it all just kind of hit me, and I was terrified. Seeing the person who worked so hard and gave up on most of her dreams just to take care of her two children, to be the best parent she could be, the parent that stayed, seeing her almost sickly and petrified of dying made me realise there's not much time to do everything and life, and all I prayed for was that I could make something of myself to make her proud before time runs out.