Beautiful Lost Memories

"Mom, where's my lunch? It's already past seven." I swallowed the rest of my sandwich while hurriedly putting on my shoes near the door. The aroma of Mom's homemade bread filled the room, mixed with the sound of my little brother crying because he didn't want to wear his jacket. "Your lunch is on the table, dear. You also have to drink your milk," Mom said without turning around, while calming my brother who was still struggling as he put on her jumper. "I'll drink it on the bus," I replied, grabbing my lunch box and milk carton from the table. "I have to leave now, Mom." Mom sighed, but finally smiled a little. "Be careful on the road. Don't cross the street carelessly." I nodded. "Yes, Mom." As soon as I left the apartment, the morning air hit my face. Spring in New York was still cold in the morning, making my breath feel like a thin mist. The streets were already busy; the sounds of horns, engines, and people rushing to the station echoed in my ears. I half-ran to the bus stop at the end of the block. From a distance, I saw the school bus approaching. As soon as the bus stopped, I got on and immediately stood up because all the seats were full. Some kids were busy with their cell phones, while others were chatting about math tests. I held onto the metal pole near the door, staring out the window filled with the shadows of buildings and small shops. There was nothing special about that morning. Just the same old routine. The bus drove through the crowded but orderly streets of the city. The adults walking quickly on the sidewalk seemed to be doing something that would become a habit for me when I was their age. When the bus stopped in front of the school, I got off with several other students (let's just call it the school). The morning breeze carried the scent of asphalt and wet leaves. I crossed my bag in front of my chest and crossed the sidewalk towards the gate. My steps stopped at the edge of the crosswalk. I looked left and right. The road looked safe. As soon as my left foot touched the asphalt, a loud honk broke the air. I turned quickly. A car was speeding from the right, hitting the road barrier and losing control. In a split second, my eyes were filled with the car's headlights and the long screech of tires. I didn't have time to think, let alone move. My feet were glued to the asphalt and wouldn't budge. My body was thrown backwards. All I could see was the sky and the tall buildings above me. The world spun rapidly. Pain spread through my body, so intense that it took my breath away for a moment. I felt my skin touch the asphalt. The sounds around me suddenly felt distant. Someone screamed. "Oh my God! Someone's been hit!" Another voice added, "Call an ambulance!" I tried to move my hands, but couldn't. I felt warm blood on the side of my face. My vision became blurry. I heard quick footsteps approaching, followed by the sound of hurried breathing. "Jesus Christ, Xavia?" That voice... I recognized it. But why was he here? I tried to open my eyes, vaguely seeing a teenage boy with messy brown hair, his face tense with blood on his temple, his eyes wide with panic. His hand reached for my shoulder, shaking me gently. “Xavia, hold on. Please, don’t close your eyes,” he said in a trembling voice. He was crouched beside me without his uniform, just a crumpled white T-shirt stained with blood. I tried to speak, but the blood on my lips made the words stick. “Leon…” my voice was barely audible. "Yes, I'm Leon." He knelt beside me, his hands trembling as he tried to hold my shoulders. "Hang in there, Xavia. You'll be okay. I promise." I wanted to believe him, but my vision was getting blurry. Suddenly, another voice rang out loudly behind him. "Mr. Leon! Get back now!" Leon turned around. "Paulo, he's badly injured! We have to—" "Get in the car!" the voice was heavy and commanding. "Now, sir!" The sound of quick footsteps approached. A man in a black suit pulled Leon's arm. "Please, sir, you can't stay here. People are starting to take pictures!" Leon shook off his hand. “I can’t leave him!” “Mr. Leonard!” Paulo’s tone rose. “Do you want to go to jail? Follow my orders quickly!” I could only hear fragments of their conversation, mixed with the voices of people around me shouting. “It was the teenager who was driving!” “He’s underage!” "Someone call the police!" Leon looked at me for a moment, his face pale with frustration. His lips moved, but I couldn't make out his words anymore. The faint sound of ambulance sirens was the last thing I heard before darkness engulfed me. *** When I regained consciousness, everything was shaking. I felt my body moving—probably in a car. There were men talking quickly nearby. "He's still breathing, Paulo." "Keep pressing the wound. We're not at the hospital yet." I recognized the second voice. It was Paulo—the guy who was always around Leon at school. The white shirt under his black suit was stained with blood. "Does Mr. Willionel know?" asked someone in front. "Yes. He ordered us to take care of everything before the news gets out." There was a moment of silence. Then Paulo's voice was heard again, his tone urgent. "Leon has to leave tonight. There can be no traces." I wanted to speak. I wanted to know why. But my body was too weak. The world spun, their voices grew distant. I vaguely saw a large building, which I believed to be a hospital. Soon, several men and women in white coats approached, the sound of the stretcher wheels piercing my ears. "Quick, make way! We need the operating room!" another voice shouted. White lights pierced my blurred vision. I felt my weak body being lifted. I heard medical equipment clanging, the sound of monitors beeping. "Her blood pressure is dropping, doctor!" A woman's voice still echoed in my ears. A man's voice, whom I believed to be the doctor the nurse had mentioned, spoke. "Prepare the transfusion!" I couldn't bear the pain that kept coming. My breathing was heavy. Each breath felt like it was being sliced from within. In the fog of my consciousness, Mom's face flashed briefly in my mind. It was replaced by Leon's pale face when he approached me earlier. I wanted to call out to them, but my voice was stuck in my throat. Everything slowly faded away.