Today was just like any other day. I woke up at around four in the morning and called my best friend, Hannah. She lives in Australia so I wasn’t worried about waking her up, she’d probably just be getting home from school. I used to live in Australia down the road from Hannah but my mother (aka Barbie because she’s blonde and made out of plastic) wanted to move to England.
My parents are divorced and I lived with Barbie and my little bro, Jason. Me and Jason didn’t always get along but he was the best brother a guy could ask for. He’s dead now. That’s why I wake up so early, his death keeps replaying in my mind;
The day was overcast but it wasn’t raining… yet. A tempting smell of hot chips wafted down from the corner shop and I tried to remember how much change I had in my pocket without counting. As Jason sat poised on his BMX he ran a hand through his tangle of black hair and watched his breath curl into the air. He was getting impatient. “Ready?” he asked Daniel.
“Give me a minute,” Daniel replied, punching buttons on his phone.
They had a bet that Jason couldn’t jump on his BMX over the wide road. Jason was the best rider out of all five of us and I knew he could make the jump but something felt wrong. Daniel wanted to film it and he was trying to get his phone into camcorder mode.
“Helmet,” I said, holding the flaming BMX helmet out to Jason. He shook his head.
“Ok, action!” Daniel cried.
Jason grinned at the phone and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, do not try this at home.” He pedaled speedily towards the home made ramp. Just as the back wheel left the ramp a car spun around the corner. I could have yelled a warning, but I couldn’t make my mouth move. The speeding car hit him with a sickening crunch then he was flying through the air. The bike left a dent on the bonnet and I could hear the teenage skin-heads driving the car cursing with frustration. Jason flipped off the bike and rolled over the car, smacking onto the tarmac with another crunch.
The car zoomed away and I ran forward to my brother while my boyfriend (yes, I’m gay) dialled 999. Two of our friends had bolted. They had been smoking marijuana and it wasn’t a good idea to be there when the cops arrived. Daniel stood on the side walk holding the phone loosely in his hand. “Shit, shit, shit. All my fault, my fault,” he murmured, shaking his head.
“Oh, fuck,” Jason groaned. I thought he would be ok but then I saw the strange angle of his neck and the blood gushing onto the road from his head.
He was still alive when the ambulance got there, but died before they got him on the stretcher. The car was stolen. The cops found it abandoned on the side of the highway. Jason’s murderers were still at large. “Don’t blame yourself,” people kept telling me when I said I could’ve warned him, or I could’ve forced him to wear the helmet. I didn’t blame myself. I blamed Barbie. It would never have happened if we didn’t move to England in the first place.
When we moved to England Jason turned emo and started doing drugs. He was heart broken about leaving Hannah, his girlfriend. They broke up before we moved. “We’ll still be friends and keep in touch,” they said. Jason couldn’t live like that. He needed to know that Hannah was his so they got back together and he quit the drugs.
He was drug-free, going back to school, finally getting his life back on track. He had his whole future in front of him, he was only fourteen. Now he’s dead. But this story is not about his death, or about me, it’s just about life. Shit happens. Deal with it and move on. You only live once, so live well.
