Character Description

His body, clad in lime green protective gear, gumboots and helmet, makes him easy to spot on the horizon. I watch as he disappears round the corner and reappears just seconds later. Although I can't actually see his face, I know that a proud grin is most likely to be plastered across it. Around and around the track he goes, faster every time, until his speed is so great I can't keep up with him. He decides to change his route and zips down the hill, out of my sight. I expect him to come back up the other side straight away, but he doesn't. I tell myself not to worry. He's probably just found a bump that he can use as a jump. I let out a sigh of relief as I realise that this is probably what he's doing, but my relief obviously came too soon. The sound of the motor no longer fills the air.

I sprint down the track as fast as my boots will allow me. My heart starts to beat faster as I enter the paddock. Worst case scenarios run through my mind, but all the while I keep on running. I come over the brow of the hill and scream. His small body is half hidden by the bike, but the half you can see isn't moving. I start to run even faster and find myself stumbling down the last part of the hill. I wrench the bike off of him and sink to my knees. I pull off his helmet revealing his perfect round face, complete with big green eyes, a button nose and smooth peachy lips. His eyes are closed, long lashes brushing his cheeks. Beads of sweat trickle down his forehead and wet his short brown hair. I call his name but he's unresponsive...

I sit in the waiting room listening to the buzz of the hospital. I try to distract myself by thinking of other things, but the sound of his bubbly giggle won't leave my mind. I think of his quirky personality, and how he would never hesitate when it came to helping others. He loved doing anything outdoors, but his main passion was motocross. Now he'd gone and fallen off his bike. I leap to my feet as the doctor comes into view. "He's gone." ” What? No no no no no. He can't be dead.”  "At least he died doing the thing he loved." I collapse into a chair. My precious little brother who never did anything wrong. Gone? At only nine years old his life was taken. "Do you want to see him." What! No. I can't bear the thought of his pretty olive skin, looking white and lifeless. I somehow manage the words "No thanks." I suddenly can't hold it in any longer. Tears create waterfalls down my face, as I rush from the confines of the building.