English Composition - Blue

Life is very fragile, one moment I may be conversing with you, but the next, you may be gone. I never knew I would ever experience this until a day, which changed the lives of many people around me, including my very own...
"But I don't want to go to the temple; I want to have an ice-cream!" I shouted like the child I was. It was a hot and humid Sunday afternoon and my family, comprising of my parents and my sister, were in the convertible. We were on our weekly routine of going to the temple to pray. I always pouted, feeling unhappy that I had to compromise on what I wanted to do.
"Be good and we'll buy you an ice-cream later, alright? Be good, Johnny. Be good," my parents tried to say in as soft a tone as they could. I was still feeling unhappy and carried on yelling at the top of my voice.
"It seems like we do not have a choice, Mike. We will just have to miss today's visit," my mother told my father.
"Oh great!" my father exclaimed in disgust. Me, being the young boy I was, thought they were all happy to submit to my proposal. After all, what could a boy understand? However, all this time, my sister did not say a word. She has always been a quiet girl, never talking much. This day was no exception. She did not even voice her opinion or suggestion.
My father made a U-turn, which was illegal at that junction. Many horns were sounded. Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I caught a car coming towards our vehicle. It was headed straight for the door I was sitting the closest to. It seemed I would die in an accident caused by the negligence of an inconsiderate motorist.
Probably due to pumping adrenalin, things started to happen at break-neck speed. A bang and a crash and another crash and all of a sudden, all was silent. All this while, as a natural human reflex, I had shut my eyes, preparing for everything and anything that was to come. I smelled blood and opened my eyes. I was lying on the seats and my sister lay on top of me.
Everything was a mess. Glass shards, probably from the window, were everywhere. My parents, in the front seat, had wounds on their heads. They were bleeding profusely, but in a way, who was not? A crowd had gathered around the two cars and were pointing, looking and trying to help.
That fateful day, in the accident, the only casualty was my beloved sister. It turned out she loved me too, so much that she even used her own body as a shield for me. I was very guilty. All her life, she was just an ordinary girl, with a poor life. She grew up without the attention of my parents, as it was all focused on me. I had stolen the limelight from her since I was born. However, she never blamed for doing so. Instead, she showered me with love and attention, being my first nanny and babysitter.
She loved her life, and she grew up mentally strong, although she never showed it with her actions. She loved the colour 'Blue', as it reminded her of peace and tranquility. It also resembled the sea and the sky. She said that everyone tends to forget that they do exist. Everyone was either so absorbed into their own lives or did not even care that they made a difference. She was correct. We take things for granted, love, peace, things we own and people around us who love and care for us. We always feel they are ever-present, never going to perish. But we are wrong. Nothing exists eternally and I understood that principle on that very day.
Now, everything but one, the funeral, is just a vague memory. It was raining at the time of the funeral, suiting the occasion very well. At the funeral, a sea of people attended the solemn ceremony. They came from her school, her tuition class and many other organizations. Ironically, even the monks and the caretakers from the temple were present. My parents were sobbing uncontrollably, while being comforted by relatives and friends.
I, on the other hand, was sitting on a chair quietly, not making a sound. Do not be mistaken, I was sad too. In fact, I blamed myself so much I could not even bear looking into the mirror and seeing my reflection. I hated myself for making so much noise that day. Maybe it was just me, but I felt that if I had not insisted on getting what I wanted, nothing, nothing of this would have even happened. It was I, the spoilt brat, who actually caused the death of an innocent and adorable girl. It was I, the naughty child, who ended my sister's life. I was devastated.
All of a sudden, the rain stopped almost immediately. Out from nowhere, there was a patch of blue sky among the dark clouds. Only I happened to notice this fact. Only I bothered to peer out, take a look at the sky and smile to myself. To me, the blue patch of sky was a signal from my ever-loving sister. I interpreted it as she wishing me peace and calmness, spreading them to everyone else who needed it as well.
Now, at home, stands an altar where rests a picture of my deceased sister. However, in the master bedroom, lies only my mother. My parents have split up since the incident, my mother unable to get over the fact that my father had indirectly caused their daughter, my sister’s death.
Ever since that incident, however, I have changed greatly too. Many have complimented on the fact that I have grown up, saying that I have the maturity of a boy five years older than me. I take the comment positively, but I can only explain that the reason for the change in my behaviour is largely due to my sister’s message from the heavens.