The police lights were flashing in the lonely streets. The ambulance lights mixed in with them. It was always a quiet neighborhood, but not tonight. I woke up from the scream next door from my house. It was the kind of scream when you were in terror, or for better example, in a horror movie, when some idiotic girl was in the middle of being murdered.
The blue and red lights were shining through my window, and I removed the covers and got up to close the curtains, but before I did, I saw two paramedic men carry a body bag out into the ambulance. I gasped, and quickly pulled on a random t-shirt on the floor, and headed next door. The neighbor's yard was surrounded by a curious crowd of people. I was among them. I squeezed my way through the front of the crowd, and looked around for any signs of Mr. and Mrs. Yale. They are my neighbors, and I hope nothing bad happened.
But my hope was crushed.
A few moments later, Mrs. Yale screams that same scream I heard when I awoke, and then she falls to the ground sobbing. Mr. Yale jogs out of his home and comes to aid his wife. As he cradled her, I broke through the police, who were trying to hold the crowd back from getting near the scene, and went over to where Mr. and Mrs. Yale crouched down. I bent down to their level.
“Mr. Yale, what happened?” I asked, in a calm voice. Mr. Yale didn't seem to hear me. So I put my hand on his shoulder, and tried again to get some kind of information.
“Mr. Yale, I'm your next door neighbor, Ben. Remember me?” I got a hold of his gaze. His eyes, smoky green, were all watery. He nodded at me, but it was like his physical body was here, but his mind was elsewhere.
“Listen to me. What happened? Wheres Jeff? Where is your son, Jeffery?” Mrs. Yale seemed to go into hysterical after I said Jeffery's name. So something must have happened, but what? Where was Jeff? Was he the one in the body bag? I started to panic. I shook Mr. Yale’s shoulders.
“Mr. Yale! Where the hell is Jeffery?! What happened to him?” Mr. Yale blinked, then slowly gathered his wits. He finally spoke, but slowly, as if he was still trying to process it while he told me.
“Jeffery? My Jeff.......he......came home as usually. He wasn't late. He never is. He went straight up in his room. We didn't know anything was wrong. My wife and I......we went to bed. Slept. But about twenty minutes ago, my wife woke up. She went downstairs to get a drink. But when she went to check up on Jeff.....oh Jeffery!” He sobbed. I've never seen such sadness and pain in this couple. But I couldn't do anything about it now. I have to know what happened to Jeff.
So I asked gently and quietly,”Then what happened?” Instead of Mr. Yale responding, Mrs. Yale spoke in tiny sobs.
“I walked into his room, and stood by his bed to see if he was asleep. I.......I put my hand on the bed, and I couldn't feel his feet, so I turned on the lights, thinking maybe he went to the bathroom or something.” then she went into sobs again, but she kept going, “but instead, I saw feet dangling, and as I look up, it was Jeffery! He had hung himself on the ceiling fan!”
Mrs. Yale went into bigger hysterics. My eyes were wide, I felt like crying and I was very angry. No, sad and upset too. How could he do this? To his parents? I stood back up, and walked out on the streets. I fell to my knees. Yeah, it hurt, but I didn't care. It hurts so much. I knew that kid. We lived next door to each other. We went to the same school. We had some classes together. Same lunch. It's sad that all this time I knew him, but never bothered to try to make some conversations with him. I just avoided him all possible when the bigger guys picked on him. Now, now I wish I did something. I wish I did something to stop them. I wish I could go back and be by his side.
But its too late. It's all my fault. I stood by, and did nothing.

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 15.07.2011

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