~Hoodlum II, The Aftermath~
~Prologue~
Sequel to the poem, "HOODLUM," and the journey to live...
"THE AFTERMATH"
I arrived on the scene, emergency room jammed,
friends stretched out the door, hardly any standing
room left on the floor
my mother greeted me as I dash through the door
she needed the true identity of the young man who
had assaulted my brother and left him for dead
she gave me his street name and I was out done, as I told her
his true name tears filled my eyes as I thought astonishingly
I just had dinner the night before with him and his whole family
I made it to my brothers side and almost collapse from disbelief
but I shove my tears away in stride and rushed to my brothers bedside
his body was swollen abominably, covered in blood from his head to feet
his face ruptured beyond compare, intravenous feeding were stuck in him everywhere, but I made sure he knew I was there
I held his hand and walk with him to the elevator doors, heart throbbing but I never letting go, my last words to him before he disappeared through was hang in there I love you
my visits at the hospital were like a ghost, a few of us walk the halls and others took up post, the word was out, they left a witness behind and they were coming back to get the job done, but we made sure they weren't getting this one
eighteen hours, three sets of six surgeons in a crew working extensively to help pull my brother through
eighteen more hours in the recovery room before the family could be certain he would shock the entire hospital crew, six months in ICU, CCU and a whole lot of praying brought him through
at one of my visits the doctor ecplained how to keep the wounds clean and from exposure, I inhaled, took a deep breath as my brother complimented me on keeping my composure
but that lesson was surely a flop, my other brother rob me of the spot, our challenge now was to help him heal, build and hold onto faith, that this situation would not alter his fate
but the aftermath was to much for him to bare, he couldn't even stand people touching him, or being around him anywhere, his trauma was to great for him to escape, the emotional scars were beyond repair
the closeness we once shared was no more, the intrusion left him raw and sore, I knew the only way for him to move forth was to have his day in court
(©)copyright;KarenRussell
Comments
AUTHORWHAT A TRAGEDY YOU EXPERIENCED, MY HEART GOES OUT TO YOU & I AM GLAD YOUR LIFE IS BETTER. YOU KNOW, WE ALL LIVE IN AN ELEMENT OF A GHETTO IT'S JUST THAT SOME ARE MORE NOTICEABLE THAN OTHERS BUT, I LEARNED OVER THE YRS. A GHETTO IS A FRAME OF MIND & I NEVER FRAME THAT PICTURE, I LIVED IT & LEFT IT BEHIND & NO MATTER WHERE I AM, I AM FREE. YES! EVERYDAY IS A CELEBRATION OF LIFE & WE SHOULD EMBRCE IT, THANK YOU AGAIN FOR YOUR GESTURE OF KINDNESS,,,LOL, R.K. AKA LOLLIPOP!
What a tragic experience you faced. Growing up in the ghetto I saw my share of bad things. Most of my old friends were killed on the streets or went to jail. I witnessed lots of horrible things and as most of my friends on here know that my fiance (many years ago) was murdered so unjustly and I spent 7 days of horror in the ICU hoping he would wake up from his coma. Sadly he did not.....I am sorry for the experience you went through. I learned that after dealing with such tragic experiences in my own life that writing was my cathartic way of healing my own heart. I moved up out of that element and bettered myself and I am so proud of the fact I made it out, although I will always remember the ones (my dear friends) who tried and were unsuccessful. I guess you could say I wake up daily appreciating every breath I take knowing that I am fortunate to have escaped that world. Take care!
