Dear to those that this message may concern,
It’s taken me a while to face the tragic reality of this accident – including the somewhat strength to confront you who know Matt through his knack of poetry and other literary forms, while those who know him on a very personal scale that are among the avid readers of his work. This has taken me a very long time to find the will to come forward and announce this – granted under the permission of my brother in any cause of emergency.
On August 10th, Matt and I went clubbing to let our mum have some rest. But I’d noticed that my brother was feeling slightly off-colour lately too, so from this outing, it would allow him to unwind. As planned, the evening went fine. My brother, predictably in vain, made every attempt to place his troubles and worries aside, and in the end, enjoyed the dry night. We didn’t finish late because we’d been drained from our family’s crisis. So, we drove home, feeling good. But like any point in life, we came across near-fate.
A ‘boy racer’ in his pimped-out hatchback came zooming across the traffic light junction and plummeted into our car – the driver’s side. The impact happened so quickly and fierce, lights blurred violently before my eyes until drowning me in darkness. The last thing I could remember was the faint voices of paramedics, sending orders and reassurances to Matt and I. At that moment, it was almost like in the movies: my consciousness disembodied and disorientated, the fuzz and flashing lights all seemed so surreal. But it was agonisingly real and terrifying. Far too real.
As they carted me away on a stretcher, reality hit me: Matt. My brother. Where was he? Is he okay? These questions circled in my mind infinitely and sent me into hysterics (and still continue to do so). My reaction was quickly spotted by the paramedics, increasng my oxygen and sedated me.
The following morning I woke up, slightly up-right accordingly to my bed’s setting, wires and proves attached over my pulse-points. That heavy-headed haze of drugs and pain held me down. I realised where I was after a while and broke into tears. These were tears of relief and painful hysteria. I felt lost, alone, defenseless and scared. I knew where I was. But I didn’t know where Matt was. I wanted – no – needed to know that he was alive.
A nurse appeared on my side after hearing me break down, calming me softly, explaining the night of our accident, and how quickly we had been rushed through the corridors of the ER – now formally known as the trauma unit (or something not-de-similar). Yet another wave of distraught filled me. Emotions flew everywhere – normal for women – but God, I balled my eyes out as if it was the only way to wear the tretcherous reality away. I needed my big brother. I had to know. But another thing that drove further tears was our mum. She didn’t need to see this, but had to. Her two beloved children involved in a stupid car accident, caused by a stupid immature little boy racer who thought he ruled the roads, in his stupid cheaply pimped-out hatchback. I cursed and wanted to kick and scream.
It’s just not fair.
The nurse informed me that Matt was in the ward next door, comatosed. I wailed ‘Oh, God’ so loud through the tears. My eyes surely should’ve rolled out of my sockets by then. This wasn’t right, this surely wasn’t happening. But damnit, it was. Lord, it was.
I still wish it never happened. Even now I beg to rewind. Matt is still in a comatose. And I tear at the seams of life that he wakes up. It’s just not fair. It really isn’t.
The nurse told me the following details:
Matt has experienced severe concussion, multiple bruises to the body, including whiplash and a broken rib. He is on recovery watch 24-7, and my family and I are instructed to talk to him; to let him know we’re there and hopefully it’ll wake him up.
I myself have bruises and slight concussion. I ache and the pain is unbearable. To even think of and replay that night is traumatising.
The doctor has said that it will possibly take 2 weeks for Matt to wake up. But when he does, he’ll struggle with communicating and mobility skills. This will be further affected by the medication they will provide him with, due to his injuries. The broken rib will heal by itself and that he will have to wear a backbrace, a neck brace and start off in a wheelchair before using crutches to learn how to walk again. The concussion has most likely jarred his memory too; so if you’re expecting any work from him, there won’t be for a very long time. I hope that you will understand this.
Anyhow: the ‘boy racer’ was charged for careless driving and being under the influence of alcohol, as well as damage to our car and putting lives at risk. However, despite this justice, I’d rather know that my brother will see another day.
I welcome and thank all of you for any condolences and prayers, as well as your time and patience.
Sincerely,
– Natasha W.
Meminerunt Omnia Amantes 