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"When you're feeling low, I'll be there too."
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LUV THAMAN STILL remembers his first brush with death.
He and his two other cousins, Riya and Siddiq, were at the local creek. The summer heat had left them angry, relentless, and hot. The three cousins decided that they'd go cool down. So, they gathered up what they could (even a five dollar bill in case they ran into the ice cream man) and made their way to the creek.
Once they got there, the first thing Riya did was climb up the rocky, gray ledge. Then, she jumped into the air, bunched her body into a little ball, and yelled at the top of her lungs. Her brown hair flew above her and she used her hand to pinch her nose. A splash resulted, sprays of the slightly murky, cool water jumping on the moss covered rocks and leaves of bushes.
Siddiq was to go next. That was the arrangement between the three. Riya stays down there to grab him, as he was the youngest of the trio. Luv stays up here to make sure he jumps off correctly. Just as he's telling his younger cousin to move a little more to the left, a blood-curling scream shakes the natural habitat. Luv looks over the ledge of the cliff and sees Riya crying her eyes out. The water around her — it was no longer the nice blue color it was before. The water was red. Like a shadow, the cloudy, burgundy water followed Riya, wrapping around her torso like a petulant kid. It felt like a lifetime before Luv began to dart off in her direction.
He remembers the way he pulled her to the edge of the creek. He remembers the way Riya told him to stop, that she was in pain. He didn't. He had to move her. In his young brain, that seemed like the only rational thing to do. Once he settled her onto the dirt, he immediately regretted his decision. Riya's leg was bent at an odd angle. White bone penetrated through her tan skin and spurts of blood flew through the gaping wound on her limb. Luv almost threw up. It was absolutely disgusting.
Still, he pulled himself together. He ordered the young Siddiq to go find their mothers. He did just as he was told. Now, it was just a nervous, scared Luv with a crying, pain-ridden Riya. He remembered reading somewhere that to stop bleeding, you apply pressure. With shaky hands, he pressed his palms against the wound. It was futile. The blood seeped between the cracks of his fingers, dripping from the bottom of his hands. It was a bloodshed and Luv was merely a boy.
