Final Photos, Final Memory

by Jonathan Pan, 10th Grade, CA

The sound of the footsteps all of a sudden ceased to exist, as all surroundings, the lush green mountains and calming sea, appeared to be descending. I was flying.

My brother and I had decided to go on a trip to Tamsui for the last time before we left Taiwan during the summer break before his senior year. For siblings only two years apart in age, we were rather distant, which was why I felt so excited for this trip. After a long bike ride, where he constantly slowed down so I could catch up with him, we arrived at Tamsui Station. Once we were there, I took him up on his generous offer to let me decide on the restaurant for lunch and to let me waste his time helping me shop for clothes at a shopping center.

The floors were tiled perfectly in a grid-like manner with a yellowish brown color, with each tile having a slightly different shade. The outer edges of the platform were surrounded by a walkway with white tiles, which glistened in the sunlight. Surrounded by thin railings, we were separated from the beautiful navy blue waters behind them. Even further away was a small island, its greenish tint fading away to match the bright blue sky. Soft wind blew against my whole body, creating ripples through my t-shirt and shorts. The open air was as fresh as ever. I was full of energy, despite the fact that this was the end.

“You wanna take some pictures?” my brother asked.

“Yep, I guess I will.” I wasn’t about to rely on my brain to create sufficient memories for this. Starting with some general pictures of the scenery, it felt empty. I needed to add some people. Flipping the camera, with my back faced against the scenery this time, I tried again. However, looking back at the pictures once more made me realize that it still wasn’t enough. Nothing felt right. My awkward positioning of the head, the mask that was one size too big, and the off-centered island with its tails cut off finally made me realize why I needed my brother’s help with photography. After all, the only thing I knew about photography was the 1/3s rule. I turned to my brother for guidance, who was kneeling down trying to set his phone up.

“Okay. C’mere,” he said gently.

“What is this?” I asked, after seeing the photos app pulled up on his phone.

“Ready? QUICK! RUN!!”

Although confused, I sprinted as fast as I could, trying to follow my brother speeding into the railings ahead of him. Suddenly, he jumped. Thanks to my 376 ms reaction time, I quickly did the same. Leaping into the air, time slowed down almost to a stop. The hedges, tiles, and railings slowly disappeared from my field of vision below, with more of the endlessly vast blue sky moving into view from above. All was silent. The wind brushing against my skin was no longer noticeable. Only the sun remained, with its warm glow wrapping around me softly. As I fell back down, time went back to normal after its short nap. Chuckles filled the surrounding air as we laughed together hysterically and walked back to the phone to look at the first attempt at our ingenious idea. Our smiles disappeared; we realized we had to try again.

It took another two or three attempts to get the picture just right, making sure the camera focused on us and not the tiles on the ground. Each time I jumped, time slowed down less and less. For the final picture, time flew by as I bounced up and down like a deflated basketball. Knowing that our phones would die any second, we rushed back to see the results for the final time.

The picture was nothing short of perfect. The island was plopped right into the middle. The tiles on the ground were blurry, which only meant the camera finally focused on us. I, surprisingly lucky, had timed the jump just right, making me look like I was floating. My hair was a propeller pushing me upwards, with the individual hairs from my scalp extended outwards from the jump and creating flight. Meanwhile, my brother’s awkward hand and leg positioning seemed as if he was desperately trying to catch me from the air. Sounds of uncontrollable laughter erupted from within once more.

However, I was quickly reminded of his departure. Setting up this picture as my wallpaper, my phone screen turned black. The sun started setting, and the wind only became stronger. The sudden surge of coldness replaced the warmth once created by the sun, causing a tingly feeling within me. The cold dark emptiness rushed back, overriding anything remotely happy. It was our signal to leave. As we walked to the metro station, I looked back once more. If this is what I feel like after only saying goodbye to a trip, how would I feel when he actually leaves?

There is one year left. Looking back at the earlier stages of our relationship, we didn’t get along. We fought so often, and cared so little for each other. This stage felt like it lasted so long. Maturing made me finally grateful for my brother, finally realizing what he has done for me. Every little gesture of kindness suddenly meant so much; slowing down to help me catch up, letting me decide what to eat, spending so much time helping me decide what clothes would fit me the most, and coming up with fun ideas to create memories for me. Of course, this is when time decides to speed up. This day we spent together means the world to me, and it opened my eyes to the importance of his existence. There is one year left. I need to treasure it, as time will only slow down less and less.