Loss

This year, has been a tough year, an eventful year. Not only for me, but for my family too. It all started with me getting my SPM results and getting into the university of my choice and course of choice. Happy happy. But then, like a massive wave crashing into the sands, the death of my beloved cousin.

No one expected this to happen.

Especially him.

It all started on the day which could've been one of the best and proudest day of my life and probably to my family. The news of my dearest cousin having cancer in his body. Stage four. Everyone said he couldn't make it. Everyone said its too late. But I don't believe it. Even the news of him having cancer was unbelievable to me. The thing is that he, out of everyone else in the world, he has to be the one to get this evil virus actively swimming inside his body. 

All this while, I just shook the fact of him being sick out of my mind and just talk to him and being the me I always am when I'm with him. Months went by and he showed good progress. Well of course, he started getting thinner but I joked on about that way he looks much more handsome than before. He was a fat kid, you see. 

From my eyes, he actually started getting better. And I thought, what I believed was true. That he doesn't have cancer at all or that the cancer was gone. He started acting hyper as he always is. Walking around like a really healthy kid. Like he always did. Joking around. But then, he started to fall. When he fell, he fell really bad.

He couldn't get up. He could just sit in his wheelchair and lie down. He would complain about how it hurts to me and my other family. I got into Lendu when he was sick, and I actually got the time to visit him on my way to Lendu. It was morning and he was sleeping soundly in his ward. Visitors weren't allowed to come in at the time but my aunt just told me to go in. So I did, with my dad. And I stared at him for the longest time. Just looking at him sleeping. Then my dad went out to call my aunt about something so I was left alone with him. I went by his bed and stroked his cheek and whispered goodbye to him as I was leaving. I couldn't help but shed a tear but being the "strong" girl I am, I just pushed back my tears and went out of the ward.

Days went by and suddenly when I came back for a short visit back to Shah Alam, he called. I didn't get to see him much after I got into Uni. He was crying. So badly. He said he needed help and he was hurting. I didn't know what to do. I heard my aunt's voice at the back saying to turn off the phone. That night, me and my sister went to visit him. We came by his room and he was crying still. Hurting. He held my hand and told me to help him ease the pain but I don't know how. That was the hardest thing I had to do. Looking at him crying and begging me to help him and I had no power to ease the pain he was going through. His dad came that night to take him to the hospital because of his pain. When we sent him to the car, he told me and my sister to follow him to the hospital. We told him we would. But we lied. My sister had something going on the next day.

I wish I followed him.

It turned out to be the last time I saw him.

The news of his going away was, again, unbelievable. I found out through my family's group chat on Whatsapp. 

"Memen dah meninggal"

I was in the living room. Dumbfounded. My brother came down and asked me if it was true. I couldn't answer him. I couldn't even answer myself. I just sat there staring into space when my cousin Aril, the brother of Memen, called my brother. Acin couldn't handle him, so he gave the phone to me. 

"Isyah, Memen dah takda. Isyah, Memen dah takda"

Over and over again. Wailing. I couldn't comfort him. I went in my room, trying to calm him down and he turned off the phone. I couldn't help but cursed him. But then I sat down on my bed. And lay facedown on my pillow. And cried. I cried so hard. The "strong" girl who always pushed back her tears were no longer there. I put all my feelings out. 

I know Allah SWT took him for a reason. Maybe its too ease the aching pain he's been having the last couple of weeks he was alive. 

Its been around 4 months and I still can't believe he's gone. Everytime I see his picture on my phone, I wouldn't shed a tear. I feel like he's still breathing. Playing games with his brothers at his house. With my grandma yelling at him for being too loud. Sigh, I miss that fat kid.