MY FIRST STEP
WITHOUT YOU
Author : Maida safdar
https://www.instagram.com/littlemissmaida__?igsi=dGN0YWlvb2U0dDhj
October 26,2021
They say every person has a story, but not every story is written in a book. Some stories disappear with time. Some remain hidden in the hearts of those who know them. And some are so painful that a person spends a lifetime trying to find the courage to tell them.
I don’t know which kind of story mine is. But I do know this: there are chapters of my life that I don’t want to carry with me to the grave. If I never tell them, they will be buried with me. So before that day comes, I want to give those memories a voice.
People often ask me why I never smile in pictures. Every time, I smile for a moment and change the subject.
But the truth is, I can’t remember a single moment in my eighteen years of life when life gave me a reason to smile without worry.
Since childhood, I have tried to stay out of people’s sight. Their judgmental looks and silent disrespect always seemed to follow me, simply because I wasn’t like everyone else.
At first, I thought there was something wrong with me. But as I grew older, I realized that sometimes the problem isn’t the person. It’s the way people think.
My name is Liam Hayes.
This is the story of my life, the story of a boy who could never walk on his own, but who fought every day to keep his hopes from falling.
Every morning, I woke up with a new hope. I hoped that today no one would judge me. Today no one would be angry with me. Today no child would make fun of me. Today my mother would not remind me that I was disabled.
But every single day, those hopes disappeared like foam in the wind. There was never a day when I didn’t have to listen to someone’s cruel words.
More than the judgment of strangers, it was my parents’ behavior that hurt me the most. I don’t remember my mother ever looking at me with love or even a gentle smile. She always treated me as if I was less important than everyone else.
My father didn’t seem to care that I lived in the same house. He mostly ignored me. I never received the love and affection that other children got from their parents. My disability had taken away my parents’ love before I even had a chance to feel it. Because of that, I hated my disability with all my heart.
One day, my mother told me what had happened when I was born. The doctor had said that both of my legs would never be strong enough to walk, and that I would spend my whole life in a wheelchair.
Hearing that was like the end of the world for my parents. I was their first child, and they were devastated. My mother even admitted that they wanted to give me up. But the law made them responsible for me until I turned eighteen, so they had no choice but to keep me.
A few years later, my younger brother, Peter, was born.
My parents were happier than I had ever seen them. They even threw a big party to celebrate his birth.
Peter was lucky. He had everything I had always dreamed of. Our parents hugged him, kissed him, bought him new toys, and cooked all his favorite meals. Their whole world revolved around him.
And I sat quietly in the corner, alone in my wheelchair, watching it all while trying to hold back my tears.
My mother rarely even looked at me.
Whenever my parents went out, they always took Peter with them and left me home alone.
I was terrified of being alone. Every little sound in the silent house made me jump. If something fell, I would scream and call for my mother.
“Mama… please. I’m all alone. Please stay with me.
Mama… please.”
I would keep crying until I had no tears left. In the end, I would rest my head against my wheelchair and quietly fall asleep.
My younger brother, Peter, was only seven years old then. He was two years younger than me.
He was a happy child because he had always been surrounded by our parents’ love. Every wish he had was fulfilled.
My parents had done only two things for me, and I considered both of them favors. First, even if it was out of obligation, they had kept me with them instead of giving me away. Second, they made sure I received an education.
But unlike Peter, I wasn’t sent to a good school. I was enrolled in one of the lowest ranked schools in the city.
Even that didn’t bother me.
I believed my parents had already done enough for me. I never asked for expensive toys, nice clothes, or a better school.
All I ever wanted was their attention.
I just wanted to feel, even for a moment, that I was their son too.
One night, I suddenly woke up.
The room was completely dark. Everyone was asleep. My throat was so dry that it hurt.
I reached over and switched on the lamp beside my bed. The room filled with light. Next to the lamp was a jug of water and an empty glass.
I stretched out my right hand, trying to reach the jug, but it was just too far away.
I looked around, hoping my mother or father might still be awake. But the house was silent.
I called out for my mother. Then I called for my father. No one came.
They were sleeping so deeply that they never heard my voice.
I tried one more time to reach the jug, hoping my fingers would somehow touch the handle. But it was too far, and my arm soon became tired. I swallowed hard, hoping it would ease the dryness in my throat, but my thirst was unbearable.
Finally, I decided to get out of bed and reach the jug myself.
For a moment, I thought I might make it.
But as soon as I tried to put my feet on the floor, I lost my balance and fell hard.
As I fell, my hand struck the jug. It crashed into my head before shattering on the floor.
Everything went black. My head had been cut open.
The last thing I remember before losing consciousness was seeing my mother rushing into the room, probably after hearing the sound of the jug breaking.
She lifted me into a sitting position.
Then I heard my father’s voice.
“Ever since he was born, all he’s done is cause trouble. He broke an expensive jug, and now I’ll have to spend money on a doctor too.”
He wasn’t worried about me. He was worried about his loss.
There was no kindness in his voice. It sounded as if I wasn’t really his son.
I spent that night in pain.
My mother wrapped my head with an old piece of cloth and said, “If you wanted water, you should have asked us for help.” Then she walked away.
I was only ten years old. I cried through the entire night, hoping my mother would come back, hold me in her arms, and gently take care of me. But she never did.
To her, Peter was everything. He was her whole world. And I wasn’t even one percent of it.
In anger and heartbreak, I threw the empty glass against the wall. Somehow, my thirst no longer mattered. Slowly, I rested my head on the pillow, closed my eyes, and tried to fall asleep.
My parents didn’t care that I always scored good marks in my exams. They never looked proud or congratulated me.
Instead, they would say, “What’s the point of getting such good grades? No one will ever give you a job. You’ll spend your whole life depending on those two wheels. You’ll never be able to stand on your own feet. How do your achievements benefit us?”
I would just smile faintly and stay quiet. Because deep inside, I wanted to prove them wrong.
I believed that one day I would stand on my own feet. I hoped that when that day came, they would regret every hurtful word they had ever said to me.
Then time changed.
The support I had been searching for came into my life in a way I had never imagined.
This isn’t only the story of a disabled boy. It is also the story of the person who taught me that true friendship is not built on blood, but on the bond between two hearts.
If he had never come into my life, I would still be living with my head bowed, just as I did in the past.
And if he were still with me today, perhaps I wouldn’t feel so alone.
He entered my life when even my own family had turned their backs on me.
They abandoned me on the streets like I belonged to no one.
They never even stopped to think where I would go or how I would survive.
To me, he was an angel. When he looked at me, I didn’t see pity. I saw kindness, respect, and love. He became my greatest strength.
If he had ever asked me for my life, I would have given it to him without a second thought.
I only wish he had asked.
Instead, he never asked me for anything. He only spent his time making my dreams come true.
He stood beside me, fought for me, and faced every hardship without complaining. He accepted every wound that came his way, but never let even a scratch reach me.
He was the greatest gift God ever gave me.No matter how much time passes, I will never forget him.
Thank you, my dear friend.
You are, and always will be, the best friend in the world.
___________________________
January 27,2001
I was only twelve years old at the time.
It was a cold night in November. Strong winds were blowing outside, making the leaves on the trees shake.
As usual, my mother was in the kitchen preparing dinner. I could clearly see the worry on her face. I moved my wheelchair toward the kitchen and stopped beside her.
“What’s wrong, Mom? Why are you worried?” I asked, wanting to know what was troubling her.
But she stayed silent and continued with her work.
I also stayed quiet and went back to my room.
A few minutes later, my dad came home. He looked worried and tired. He pulled out a chair and sat down heavily.
When my mother saw him, she gave him some water and asked why he was so late.
My dad told her that he had borrowed money from some people to run his shop, but he had not been able to pay it back on time. Those people had started going to his shop every day and threatening him.
My father, George Hayes, ran a small business. A few bad decisions and continuous financial losses had left him deeply in debt.
At first, he tried everything he could to repay the money. But with every passing day, things became worse.
Eventually, my father stopped going to the shop and started staying at home.
Because of this, the people he owed money to often came to our house. They shouted at him, insulted him, and demanded that he return their money.
I would sit quietly in my room and listen to everything.
I didn’t understand the whole situation at that age.
But I understood one thing.
Fear had started living inside the walls of our home
They came every day, threatened my dad, and then left. Tired of everything, my dad finally sold the shop and paid off all the debt. But after selling the shop, our life became very difficult. Whatever little we had left in the house was slowly used up.
My dad also became very weak because he could not find work.
One day, I was sitting alone in my room when my dad suddenly came in. He locked the door and sat down beside me.
I looked at him in surprise.
For a while, he just looked at me, and I looked back at him. Then, suddenly, he bent down and fell at my feet. He began to cry loudly.
I quickly held his shoulders and helped him sit up. I wiped his tears.
Then he said,
“Liam, you are very brave. We put you through so much pain. We ignored you. We made fun of your disability. We treated you as if you were less important than other children. You never received the love and affection that your younger brother received. But even after everything, you stayed strong. You remained patient and never gave up.
You quietly suffered all our anger, hatred, and wrong thoughts about you. And today, a heartless father is standing in front of his own son, begging for forgiveness.
Please, Liam. Please forgive me.
I could never give you the love and care you deserved. I could never be the father you needed. Sometimes I feel that I don’t even deserve to be called your father.
But if you can, please forgive me.
Liam, my son, you are more precious to me than anything in this world.
I know you are angry with me, and you have every right to be. But perhaps these are the last moments of my life. I don’t know how long I have left.
Before I die, I want to ask you for forgiveness.
If you are truly my beloved son, please forgive me.”
I didn’t know what to say.
For the first time in my life, my father was crying in front of me.
And for the first time, I saw him not as the man who had hurt me, but as a broken human being who regretted the pain he had caused.
Your kindness will mean everything to me. I don’t want to die carrying the weight of your anger and hatred. Liam, if you forgive me, I will be able to die in peace.
After saying this, he became quiet and waited for my answer.
Tears began to fall from my eyes. I wiped them away with the sleeves of my shirt.
“I’m not angry with you, Dad. I respect you. Please don’t put your hands together in front of me. You mean so much to me. Nothing will happen to you. You will always be with us.”
My dad pulled me into his arms.
I can never forget that day.
A part of me wanted to stay with my father for a little longer. I wanted to tell him everything that was in my heart. I wanted to tell him about all the pain I had carried inside me for so many years.
But he was already going through so much. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about my own pain and make him feel even worse.
Instead, I tried to comfort him.
I gave him courage and told him that I would always be there for him. I promised that I would become his strongest support.
But my father had already lost most of his hope.
He hugged me again.
A bright smile appeared on my face.
It was the first time my father had ever held me with love.
It had taken him years, but he had finally realized his mistake.
He had changed, and I was truly happy to see that change.
That night, he stayed beside me for hours.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like an unwanted son.
I felt like a son who was finally loved by his father.
My mother and Peter had already fallen asleep, while Dad and I stayed up talking all night. He kept apologizing to me again and again, and every time, I told him there was nothing to forgive.
Those were some of the most precious moments of my life. I wished I could capture them forever and keep them locked safely in my memories.
Sometimes our conversation would turn into laughter and jokes. Then, suddenly, silence would fall between us. After a while, Dad would say something serious, and I would listen to every word carefully.
He gave me advice about life. He talked to me about the future and told me to stay strong, no matter what happened.
Time passed so quickly that I didn’t even realize how late it had become.
After sitting beside me for hours, Dad finally stood up. Before leaving, he looked at me one last time and then quietly walked away.
That night, I fell asleep peacefully.
It was the most peaceful night of my life. Dad had also gone to his room to sleep. I never imagined that everything could change so suddenly.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my mother’s screams. I forced myself out of bed, got into my wheelchair, and rushed outside.
The moment I saw what was in front of me, I felt as if my soul had left my body.I sat there in complete shock, staring at the scene in front of me.
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
At only twelve years old, I had lost my father. The words he had spoken to me the night before kept echoing in my mind.
His apologies.
His advice.
His final embrace.
His last look at me.
I couldn’t understand how the happiness that had finally knocked on my door could disappear so suddenly.
Once again, I found myself cursing my fate. I moved closer to my dad and gently ran my hand through his hair.
My mother suddenly pushed my hand away angrily. I looked at her face. There was anger and hatred in her eyes.
“Stay away from your father! This all happened because of you. Leave our lives! You are the only one responsible for your father’s death!”
She was shouting at me in anger.
Tears began to roll down my cheeks.
How could a son be responsible for his father’s death? I had never wanted any of this to happen.
Then why was my mother blaming me?
I didn’t know how to explain myself to her. Without saying a word, I quietly went back to my room.
I lowered my head and hit it against the wall again and again.
“Yes… I’m responsible for all of this. I’m responsible for my father’s death. I’m a burden on this family.”
“I’ll leave. I’ll go far away from all of them, somewhere they will never have to see me again.”
I blamed myself for everything. I believed that I was the reason my father was gone. No one would ever come to me again.
“Dad… why did you leave me?”
“Why?”
“I never asked for anything from life. I never even wanted anything.”
“I wish I had died instead of you.”
“I wish death had come to me. At least then, one burden would have been lifted from this family.”
I cried until I had no strength left.
For the first time in my life, I truly believed that perhaps the world would be better without me.
Those words hurt me deeply, but I couldn’t control myself. Losing my father was a pain greater than anything I had ever experienced before.
After Dad’s death, my mother’s hatred for me grew even stronger.
My father’s business was gone. My mother struggled to hold herself together and slowly returned to her daily life. But I always felt like I was falling behind in the race of life.
I was becoming more and more distant from my mother.
She never gave me much attention, but I still had one small comfort. She was always around me. I believed she would never let me go far away from her.
Maybe she didn’t love me, but she still considered me her son.
She gave me food on time.
Yes, she never fed me with her own hands the way she fed Peter, but I still loved her.
There was still a small hope in my heart that one day my mother would change, just like my father had.
I never thought she could ever decide to send me away from our home.
But that was only what I believed.
_________________________
March 15,2001
One day, my mother came to me.
There was regret and sadness in her eyes. She sat beside me, just as Dad had done that night.
I stared at her in surprise, as if I were dreaming. She gently moved the hair away from my forehead.
The moment I felt her touch, I couldn’t control my emotions.
I had been longing for that touch for so many years. Seeing my mother sitting so close to me made tears fill my eyes.
She pulled me into her arms.
At that moment, I understood that no matter how she was, she could never completely push me out of her heart.
She began to apologize to me.
I held her hand and started crying.
I forgot all my complaints and hugged my mother.
She cried and said,
“Liam, please forgive me. I don’t deserve to be your mother.”
Then she stood up.
She went to the cupboard, took out some of my clothes, and put them into a small bag.
I watched her in confusion.
I asked her many times what she was doing, but she remained silent.
Then she took me with her. We walked along a deserted road.
Different thoughts started running through my mind. I kept asking her where she was taking me, but she didn’t answer.
She just kept crying. We had gone quite far from our home when she suddenly stopped my wheelchair.
I looked ahead.
There was an orphanage.
My mother knelt down beside me and said,
“Liam, you know how broken I have been since your father died. I have to face all of this alone, and I don’t want you to suffer anymore because of our situation.”
“Maybe soon we won’t even have enough food for two meals a day.”
“So I think this might be a better place for you.”
I couldn’t say anything.
My mind went blank.
My mother took me inside the orphanage. She spoke to the staff for a while and handed them my small bag.
Then she looked at me one last time.She slowly turned around and began to walk away.
I started screaming.
“Mom, please don’t leave me!”
“Mom, I can’t live without you!”
“I like the food you make for me. Please take me home with you!”
I kept calling her.
I kept crying.
But she didn’t turn back.
She walked away and left me behind.
And that was the day I learned that sometimes, the person you love the most can be the one who leaves the deepest wound in your heart.
That day, I realized how unimportant I was to her.
Was I a burden to my mother?
I had always believed that she would never send me away from her. But she had done exactly that.
Why?
Was I not her son?
At the age of twelve, I had lost everything.
Family, friends, love. None of these things seemed to be meant for me.
All I had ever received was hatred, anger, and criticism.
I don’t know how long I sat outside the orphanage. My eyes remained fixed on the gate, as if I were waiting for someone to come back.
Maybe Mom would miss me.
Maybe she would come back for me.
But it was already getting dark.
The sound of my crying and screaming echoed throughout the orphanage.
After some time, the woman in charge came to me and took me to a room. There was already a boy sitting on one of the beds.
She carefully helped me out of my wheelchair and placed me on the bed.
A little while later, she brought me some food, but I wasn’t hungry.
She left the food beside me and walked away.
I sat there silently.
After a while, the boy got up from his bed and came over to me. He sat beside me and looked at me carefully.
I was lost in my thoughts.
I was missing Dad.
At least he hadn’t left me without saying goodbye.
But Mom had.
She had left me among complete strangers.
If Dad were still alive, he would never have left me alone in a place like this. He would have kept me beside him.
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a voice.
“Hi. I’m Noah. What’s your name?”
His question made me nervous at first.
Then he held out his hand toward me.
I looked at his hand for a moment before shaking it.
“My name is Liam,” I said in a trembling voice.
Noah smiled.
“You’re new here, aren’t you? Welcome to the orphanage. From today, this is our room.”
There was excitement in his voice.
I gave him a small smile.
He continued,
“Don’t worry. On your first day here, everyone misses home and feels sad. But slowly, things get better.”
I listened to him carefully. It felt like someone was talking to me so freely for the first time. I slowly started taking an interest in what he was saying.
“Thank God my roommate is finally here! I was getting bored staying alone in this room. Now we’ll have lots of fun together. Come on, let’s jump on the bed!”
He kept talking excitedly while I listened to him seriously.
“Jump on the bed?” I asked in surprise.
“Yes! It’s so much fun!” he said happily, jumping around.
I looked down at my legs. Then my eyes moved from my legs to my wheelchair.
I suddenly felt embarrassed.
Noah was still excited.
I wondered how someone could be so happy about my arrival. People usually made fun of me when they saw me, or they simply changed their path to avoid me.
But Noah was different.
“Come on, let’s jump!” he said, grabbing my hand.
I quickly pulled my hand away.
“No, I can’t jump,” I said quietly.
“Why can’t you?” he asked.
Then his eyes suddenly fell on my wheelchair in the corner.
I lowered my head.
A small smile appeared on Noah’s face.
“Can I sit on it?” he asked, pointing toward my wheelchair.
“No,” I refused.
His expression suddenly changed.
“But I shared my room with you. Can’t you share your chair with me?” he asked innocently, looking a little sad.
I was surprised by his words.
Why did he want to sit in my wheelchair?
People usually disliked this chair so much that they wouldn’t even look at it. Sometimes, people walking past me would even kick the wheels and keep going.
I didn’t answer him. I just stared at him silently.
Noah moved closer and started to sit on my wheelchair.
“Noah,” I called out.
“Yes?” He looked at me.
“You can’t sit on it.”
“Why can’t I? What’s wrong with it?” he asked.
My eyes filled with tears.
“Noah… this chair may look like an ordinary chair to you, but to me, it is my whole life.”
Noah became silent.
I continued,
“People think this chair is my support. Maybe they’re right. But they don’t know that this is also my biggest prison.”
I took a deep breath.
“Since childhood, I’ve watched the world from this chair. I’ve watched children run, play, fall, and get back up. I wanted to be like them, but I could never take even one step beside them.”
Noah’s smile had disappeared.
“I don’t want you to experience, even for a moment, the feeling you’ve lived with your whole life.”
There was silence between us for a while.
Then Noah slowly knelt down in front of me. He placed his hand on my shoulder and said,
“Liam, I want to sit in your wheelchair because I want to see what your world looks like. If I’m your friend, I shouldn’t only understand your happiness. I should understand your pain and your burdens too.
I want to know what you go through and what you feel.”
I couldn’t say a word.
That day, for the first time, I realized that true friendship isn’t about walking beside someone. True friendship is about wanting to walk in someone’s place, even if it’s only for a moment.
__________________________
Noah told me that he was the only child of his parents. They had died in a plane crash a year ago. He was only ten years old when he lost them.
After their death, his uncle and aunt sent him to the orphanage because they couldn’t take care of him.
Listening to his story made my own pain feel a little smaller.
He was such an innocent boy who had lost his parents at such a young age. When I realized how much pain he had been through, I forgot about all my own problems.
“Actually, it’s better that I came here. Otherwise, I would have always felt like a burden at my uncle’s house. Anyway, let me show you my sketchbook. I’ve drawn so many things.”
He quickly ran to his drawer and brought out a sketchbook.
He had drawn everything in our room in that sketchbook. He had also drawn pictures of different places, animals, and birds.
There was a whole world inside his sketchbook.
He was truly a talented boy. He had drawn every little detail with such care and perfection that I was amazed for a moment.
I looked through his sketches with great interest.
“Do you like drawing?” he asked me.
I stayed quiet and shook my head.
“That’s okay. I’ll draw you instead. Just sit in front of me and don’t move.”
He kept looking at me while drawing lines on the paper.
Almost an hour later, my sketch was finally finished.
When I saw it, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
I couldn’t stop myself from crying.
I stared at the drawing with tears in my eyes.
I wished it could come true.
I wished I could stand on my own feet and that this picture could become a reality in my life.
I wished some kind of magic would happen and I would suddenly have the strength to walk.
Noah came closer and gently wiped the tears from my eyes with his shirt.
“I also wish you could stand on your own feet one day,” Noah said, trying to comfort me.
“I’ll always keep this picture with me,” I said, looking at the sketch.
“I’ll draw more pictures of both of us. I hope you’ll like them,” Noah said proudly.
I gave him a small smile.
“You’re a very talented artist. There’s magic in your hands. One day, the whole world will see your art and be proud of you,” I said proudly.
Noah suddenly hugged me.
“Thank you, Liam. You believed I was capable of something. No one has ever praised my art or encouraged me like this before.”
“No, Noah. You’re a wonderful artist. I was amazed when I saw your sketches. I’m proud of you. You will definitely succeed one day,” I said, trying to encourage him.
That day, I met someone I had no close connection or relationship with, but somehow, he became a very special friend to me. He made me believe that I was not less than anyone. I had my own values, my own importance, and the ability to move forward in life.
I grew up playing, laughing, and having fun with Noah. As I went through life, he remained my strongest companion. He was there for me in my happiness and my sadness. Whenever I called him, he would come to help me.
One person changed my whole world. He never felt sorry for me. Whatever he did for me, he did it from his heart. I don’t know why he never saw any weakness in me. Maybe he was the only person who truly understood my feelings.
Noah came into my life like an angel, and I was always afraid of losing him. I always prayed that Noah would never leave me and would always stay by my side.
He would gently move my legs and help me exercise them. Because there was no strength in my legs, I couldn’t feel them moving, but he made me feel as if my legs were actually moving. He truly believed that one day I would be able to stand on my own and walk.
Sometimes, he would hold my hands and try to lift me up.
“I don’t believe that a disabled child can’t play football. I can play football.”
Noah taught me how to play football.
“I don’t believe that a disabled child can’t jump rope. I can jump rope.”
Noah taught me how to jump rope.
I can play every game that Noah taught me. I can enjoy every happiness in life as long as Noah is in my life. Here’s a simple, emotional English version:
If Noah is not there, then I am not complete. Without him, I am like a lifeless fish lying on the shore of the sea. Noah is the sea, and I am the fish.
Storms, strong winds, summer, winter, spring, autumn, and rain, I can enjoy every season only with Noah by my side.
Friends are also a gift from God, especially when they are sincere and truly stay by your side.
________________________
November 26,2010
This was the day of my birthday, and for some reason, there was a different kind of happiness in my heart.
It had been ten years since I had come to the old age home, and now I was twenty-one years old. After coming to the old age home, I celebrated every birthday with Noah.
On my first birthday there, Noah gave me a painting as a gift. From that day on, he gave me a painting on every birthday. I carefully kept all the paintings he had given me.
Every year, on our birthdays, we would go to different places around the city, such as the Royal Mile, Victoria Street, and Calton Hill. These places were incredibly beautiful.
I was sitting near the window of my room, looking outside. Raindrops were falling on the road and shining like little pearls. It was extremely cold.
I was waiting for Noah. Maybe he was planning a surprise for me.
Suddenly, the door of my room opened. I turned around and saw him.
“Liam, look, I’m here!” he said as he walked into the room.
A smile suddenly appeared on my face. Whenever I saw him, I couldn’t help but smile.
I moved my wheelchair closer to him.
He was no longer the small, innocent boy he used to be. He had grown into a young man too. His attractive features, growing beard, tall height, and strong masculine appearance showed that he had become much stronger than before.
“I was waiting for you,” I said happily.
“I know. I’m sorry I’m late. The rain made it difficult to get here. As soon as the rain stops, we’ll go to Calton Hill,” Noah said, explaining his plan.
“Okay,” I agreed.
Noah took me closer to the window.
“Look, Liam. It’s raining again today. It rains on your birthday every year. Why is that?” he asked curiously.
“Because Allah knows that I love rain, so He sends it as a gift for me on my birthday,” I replied after thinking for a moment.
“I think you’re right. Come on, I think we should leave now,” Noah said as he looked outside the window.
“Wait, Noah. You’re forgetting something,” I said.
“What?” Noah asked, pretending not to know.
I thought maybe he had really forgotten.
“You have something to give me,” I reminded him.
He looked at me with confusion. My heart became sad. Just a few moments ago, I had been so happy.
When Noah saw that I was sad, he slowly walked over to me. Then he took a frame out of the back pocket of my wheelchair.
There was a beautiful painting inside.
It showed two boys. One boy was carrying the other on his back while walking.
Suddenly, the sadness in my heart disappeared, and I felt happy again. I hugged Noah and started crying. I cried so much that his shirt became wet with my tears.
“Liam, how could I ever forget?” he said. “I made this painting two weeks ago, when you fell while trying to get up from your wheelchair. I picked you up and carried you on my back. This is that same moment, Liam.”
He reminded me of what had happened two weeks earlier.
That was Noah. He always turned our happiest moments into paintings so that we could remember them forever.
By the time we reached Calton Hill, evening had already fallen. It was still raining lightly. The cold wind touched my face, but Noah was with me, so even the cold felt pleasant.
Noah slowly pushed my wheelchair up the hill. The path was wet, and the street lights were shining on the raindrops, making them sparkle. There was a strange silence all around us. Sometimes the wind grew stronger and the leaves of the trees began to rustle. At other times, the soft sound of cars coming from the city in the distance broke the silence.
When we reached the top, a beautiful view of Edinburgh appeared before me.
The whole city below was glowing with lights. The reflections of the lights on the wet streets looked like stars scattered across the ground. The old buildings in the distance looked even more beautiful behind the mist and light rain.
I stayed quiet for a while, simply looking at the view.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Noah said as he stood beside me.
I looked at him and smiled.
“Yes, it really is beautiful.”
Noah looked at the city for a few moments, then turned towards me and said,
“But I think you’re looking at something more beautiful than this.”
I laughed.
“Stop praising yourself, Noah,” I said, giving him a sideways glance.
He laughed too.
The wind grew stronger. I tucked my hands inside my jacket.
Noah came closer to my wheelchair and fixed my muffler.
“Are you feeling cold?” he asked with concern.
“A little,” I replied.
Without saying anything, he took off his jacket and placed it over my shoulders.
“Noah, you’ll get cold,” I said, worried about him.
“I don’t feel cold,” he said carelessly.
“You’re lying.”
“Maybe,” he said with a smile, “but you shouldn’t feel cold.”
That was how much he cared about me. I don’t know why, but his extreme care for me and the way he was so protective of me gave me a strange sense of peace.
He never took care of himself as much as he took care of me.
He spread a thick, soft piece of fabric on the ground. Then he carefully lifted me from my wheelchair and helped me sit on it. He sat down beside me.
I looked at him for a few seconds, then turned my eyes towards the view in front of us.
There stood a magnificent white horse. It had hair as soft as silk and large, beautiful black eyes.
I stared at the horse.
Noah noticed where I was looking and studied my expression.
“Come on, let’s go horse riding,” he said.
I gave him a small smile.
“How can I?”
“Why not? Come on, I’ll take you horse riding.”
He walked towards the horse, held its reins, and brought it closer to me. Then he carefully lifted me and tried to place me on the horse.
With great care, he helped me sit on the horse.
I held the reins tightly and gently signaled the horse to move.
I didn’t know how to ride a horse, but the moment I sat on it, I felt like a prince.
After a while, the horse took me around the whole valley and brought me back to where Noah was waiting for me.
He carefully helped me get down from the horse.
For a while, we enjoyed the beautiful view and kept talking to each other.
We had now come down from the hill and reached the road below.
The entire road was wet because of the rain. Noah was holding a large umbrella over me to protect me from getting wet.
He was getting completely soaked, but he was only worried that I might get wet and catch a cold or fall sick.
As soon as we reached Victoria Street, it was crowded and full of activity. More and more people were filling the streets.
Noah carefully pushed me through the crowd and took me to a quieter, empty street. There was a bakery in front of us.
He stopped my wheelchair in a safe spot near the side of the road and said,
“Liam, wait here. I’m going to get your favorite cake from that bakery.”
“Okay. Be careful,” I said with a small smile.
Noah ran inside the bakery.
A few minutes later, he came out. He was carrying several things. There was a box of cake in one hand and some biscuits and pastries in the other.
He started running towards me.
But suddenly, a speeding car came from the left and crashed into Noah.
A loud scream escaped my throat.
“Noah!”
I desperately started turning my wheelchair towards him. In my panic, I pushed too hard, and suddenly my wheelchair tipped over. I fell onto the ground.
A crowd had already gathered around Noah.
There was a considerable distance between me and him.
I tried to get up on my own.
I put all my strength into my arms and legs.
With a desperate cry, I somehow managed to stand.
I took my first step.
Then I looked down at my feet.
Suddenly, I felt something strange.
There was a strength in my legs that I had never felt before.
I took another step.
Then another.
And then a third.
I kept moving forward, one step after another.
I couldn’t believe it.
I was walking.
I kept taking step after step until I finally reached Noah.
He was lying on the road.
The road around him was covered in blood.
I dropped down beside him and placed his head in my lap. I started crying uncontrollably.
“Noah, wake up.”
“Noah, please open your eyes.”
“Look! I can walk!”
“Noah, nothing will happen to you. You’ll be okay.”
“Please, someone call an ambulance!”
“My friend is going to die!”
“He is my life.”
“I don’t want to lose him.”
“Please, someone help me!”
Noah slowly opened his eyes and looked at me. There was a beautiful smile on his lips.
He placed one hand on my cheek and said in a weak, painful voice,
“I will always be with you. You are not alone. Happy birthday my dearest friend.”
“May Allah always keep you happy and never let any pain come near you. Now, our next meeting will be on the Day of Judgment.”
After saying those words, he closed his eyes.
“Noahhhh! You can’t leave me!”
I was crying like a madman.
I took off my muffler, wrapped it around Noah’s head, and lifted him into a car.
By the time we reached the hospital, Noah had already lost his battle for life.
He was gone.
But how?
He was such a strong person. How could he lose the fight? How could he leave me alone?
My world had become empty again.
Why did life give me one happiness only to take another happiness away from me?
Is my destiny only meant to give me a few moments of happiness before my life falls back into darkness?
After Noah’s funeral, I returned to the old age home.
I went back to the same room where we had spent our childhood together.
The paintings were still hanging on the walls.
But now, that room felt suffocating.
The loneliness was slowly eating me alive from the inside.
Noah’s scent was still everywhere in that room.
This was the last birthday I would ever celebrate with Noah.
Liam opened the sketchbook and took out a drawing. It was the same sketch Noah had made for him the first time they met.
“You once drew me standing on my own feet. I thought it was only a drawing. I never knew you were teaching me how to live.”
“You taught me that my wheelchair was not the end of my journey. You taught me to take my first step toward life.”
“But I never imagined that my first step would be without you.”
My First Step Without You.
“I wish you were still alive. You would have seen that your greatest wish finally came true.”
The End