It was a memory from when I was five years old, and Karun was eight. It started out like any other day—I should have been at home, eagerly awaiting my mother's return from preschool while enjoying my favorite cartoon program. But that evening was different. You see, I wasn't the quiet, reserved child everyone thought I was. No, I was the troublemaker—the pretty little rogue, as they called me.
I remember it vividly. I had gotten into a heated argument with my mother, and in a fit of stubbornness, I stormed out of the house despite her pleading cries of "Don't run, Kathy, stop!" But I was determined. My reason for fleeing was simple: my mother had refused to take me to Karun's sports day event the next day. Looking back, I realize now that my mother's decision was justified. After all, I had caused quite a commotion at Karun's previous games.
It all started the year before when Karun, at the age of seven, participated in his first sports event. My parents, eager to support their son, brought me along to watch the games. As the events unfolded, I couldn't help but become overly emotional whenever Karun stumbled or got injured during a race or game. My loud cries echoed through the grounds, disrupting the matches and causing quite a scene. Karun, bless his heart, would often have to pause his games to comfort me and show that he wasn't seriously hurt. The principal even suggested to my parents that it would be best to keep me away from such events, as my presence extended the program by a good two hours!
Despite my mother's best efforts to keep me occupied elsewhere, I somehow caught wind of the upcoming sports day and spent the entire day pestering her to take me. I even resorted to a hunger strike and other forms of mischief until, finally, I argued, begged, and then, in a fit of frustration, ran off from home.
My mother followed me, but being a master at hiding, I slipped among the bushes unnoticed. Despite being just a five-year-old, I knew all the tricks to disappear from sight. I waited until she had gone, then emerged from my hiding spot.
I followed the signs that led me to my brother's primary school and positioned myself where I knew he would emerge. I often accompanied my father to pick him up, so I knew this was the time he would come out.
As I sat there, swinging my legs like a mischievous imp, he finally appeared. I ran to him excitedly. Initially, he seemed startled to see me instead of our parents. Looking around, he asked, his voice tinged with surprise, "Where is mom?"
I giggled mischievously. "Today, I'll be taking you home. Follow me," I declared, leading Karun along with me. As we walked, I couldn't resist regaling him with exaggerated tales of my daring adventure, hoping for praise. But instead of commendation, I received a scolding from him. Sulking, I trailed behind him as he quickened his pace towards home, making me promise never to run away again.
As we passed by a sweet-smelling bakery, the enticing aroma made my stomach grumble with hunger. It was then that I remembered my self-imposed hunger strike. My legs ached with fatigue from walking, and the realization hit me—I was just a hungry five-year-old kid.
In that moment, I yearned for my mother's comforting presence. She had a special way of feeding me, always ensuring I had enough to eat. And when my legs grew tired from walking, she would lovingly carry me, easing my discomfort.
Lost in my thoughts, I glanced ahead, only to realize that I had also lost sight of Karun.
Karun moved so swiftly that he didn't notice when I stopped in front of the bakery, my eyes fixed on the array of sweets on display. As I gazed up at the bustling street around me, an unfamiliar sense of fear gripped my heart. It was an inexplicable feeling, as if everything and everyone around me had suddenly become menacing—the shop owner, the vendors, even the cute puppy and the kindly elder sister passing by.
The thought of being lost, separated from my family, overwhelmed me with despair, and tears began to stream down my plump cheeks. Passersby noticed my distress and attempted to console me, asking for details to help, but fear had paralyzed me, rendering me mute except for the sound of my weeping.
As the crowd around me swelled, a sense of panic threatened to engulf me entirely. Meanwhile, my mother and Karun, navigating their familiar route, realized I was missing and began searching for me.
Karun, ever the quick thinker, retraced our steps from school and spotted me in the midst of the bustling street. However, we were separated by the road, and they patiently waited for the traffic signal to change.
On my side of the street, the bustling crowd only heightened my fear. Desperate to escape, I struggled to break free. It was then that Karun, with his sharp eyes, spotted me amidst the chaos. With a shout, he reassured me, "Kathy, we're here! Don't cry!"
Amidst the blur of tears, I glimpsed Karun waving desperately, his tear-streaked face reflecting my mother's anguish. With a wavering wave back, I began sprinting towards them, oblivious to the danger looming ahead.
The red signal wasn't something I fully comprehended at that age, so I dashed across the road heedlessly. Despite my mother's frantic shouts urging me to stop. Ignoring her pleas, I pressed forward.
Karun, sensing the impending danger, swiftly discarded his backpack and rushed towards me, his voice cracking with urgency as he implored me "Get off the road, Get Back to the pavement". But before his words could fully register, everything seemed to blur into chaos. Tears clouded my vision as I watched Karun.
I could vaguely process everything before me from then on, as tears clouded my eyes. Karun lay there, unconscious, his body sprawled in a pool of blood. My cute bunny frock was stained crimson, and my legs moved involuntarily towards him, trembling uncontrollably. Though I didn't fully comprehend the concept of an accident, I knew something terrible had happened to Karun—he was hurt and bleeding, and it made me cry.
Karun, who had just been struck by a car, was flung several meters away, landing unconscious in a pool of blood. I screamed, "Karunnnnnnn!" before a wave of piercing pain overtook my body and consciousness. It hurt like hell, but the thought of Karun's condition hurt me even more. I longed to rush to his side, to wake him and check on him, but I found myself unable to move. My vision grew increasingly blurry with each passing second.
Through the haze, I saw my mom running towards us. A final sigh of relief washed over me as I locked eyes with her, her figure sprinting towards us. It was the last moment etched into my memory before consciousness slipped away.