It was really difficult for me to look at him inside that casket. One good thing is that it was closed. His face is damaged by what happened last week. It has been a very gruesome week since the accident happened. Medical treatments were not sufficient to revive him. I believe the doctors-in-charge did their very best for him but then…
I am the one to blame. I should be the one who is inside that long oblong container. Because of him, I am still alive right now. He risked his life to save me. If not because of me, his family’s and his dreams won’t be ruined. It was as if in a snap of a finger, everything is gone.
He always tells me that he wants to be a writer. He wants to write novels as much as he likes reading various books by some-famous-some-not authors. He always tells me his ideas. His mind is apparently filled with different interesting concepts that he dreams to use on his future stories. Only he is no longer here beside me to tell tales and to crack corny jokes. Only he is gone and his stories will remain unfinished.
