There we were my mother, my father, my sister and I. Waiting impatiently outside the surgery room for my brother to come out. We were having a hard time trying not to barge in to the room. Everything happened so fast that I cannot even believe where I am right now. Honestly, where am I? I have to be still sleeping. This is a dream right? I am still dreaming. My alarm will start ringing any minute now. And my father will come to wake me up because I never wake up to the sound of my alarm even though it rings ten times over and over again. It is not my fault to sleep like a log though. And my brother, Noah, will start shouting to me cause I will be still in bed trying to keep my eyes open. At the end of this morning chaos yet already we probably will be late for the school.
I am a junior and Noah is a senior student at Eastwood High. In a couple of months, he will be leaving for college. His dream is to get into Yale ever since we were in kindergarten. In contrast to those people who laugh when they hear him say this, I have no doubt that he will get in plus he deserves it. He is the most dedicated person I have known and he has been working hard for his dream. Consequently, the last months were extremely tough for him. He was taking his finals, filling application forms for colleges, writing his supplemental essays and in additional to all of these he was working after school to save money for university.
Just a couple of hours before we rush to the hospital, we were getting reading for dinner. Dad was cooking, my mom was setting the table and my sister was proudly holding the napkins into heart shapes. When we were about to sit I went to Noah’s room to drag him downstairs for dinner since he wasn’t responding to our shoutings and calls. I knocked on his door several times but he didn’t answer so I decided to open it myself. And I couldn’t believe what I saw when I opened it.
There were crumpled papers all over the room. His essays were torn off and tossed next to his rubbish bin. His laptop which is now broken was on the floor. I picked it up then saw the email that turned his life upside down. There it was one ordinary but crucial sentence: I am sorry to inform you that we are unable to offer you a place in the class 2023. I tried not to turn a hair but I couldn’t succeed. My hands refused to hold the laptop any longer and I dropped it subsequently I froze. Yes, I literally froze. My brain didn’t want to process what I just read. Time has passed and I started to recover. What was I doing? Oh yes, the mail. And Noah! Where is Noah, he wasn’t in his room. I rushed downstairs and checked the key holder. It wasn’t there. His motorcycle’s key wasn’t there!
Lots of thoughts floated my brain. Okey pick the favorable ones please. Let’s think positively. His motorcycle is probably in the garage and he went for a walk to clear his mind. With his motorcycle’s key. No no, probably my father has his motorcycle’s key. I ran to the kitchen. My dad was carrying the saucepan, I couldn’t slow down and bumped into him. Without minding the tomato sauce that is all over my shirt, I asked him right away where Noah’s keys are. Honestly, I hadn’t seen my dad run that fast before.
Well the rest is blurred. I remember mom calling the police, my sister was crying her eyes out, and I was hopelessly calling Noah. At that time my father’s phone started ringing. And time’s had slowed. Every second on our way to the hospital was torture. I am not even going to mention the hours we waited next to the surgery room. I had fallen asleep then woke up to the sound of opening door. We stood right up and our eyes locked to the same spot. After a couple of seconds which felt like centuries, Noah came into our view with a wheelchair being led by a nurse.