I have a family consisting of a brother and three sisters. My brother, whose name is Ahmed. My mother gave birth to Ahmed in the hospital. After two days of his birth, he got a high fever. My mother went to the doctor who did not have mercy on that child who was sick. After two days, the doctor gave him a wrong dose of a medicine. Since that day my mother did not leave the hospital. Sometimes he stopped by her mother and told her that it's okay . He knew he had sinned in giving him a wrong dose . Later on my mother went to specialist who said that the child will be faced with the inability to speak. That because the dose was much larger than the body .
My mother was not able to do anything except saying (Oh Lord, I ask you reply to the judiciary, but I ask you for mercy). Ahmed was normal, he was crying and laughing and had a smile and understood everything easily. When my sisters used to come Ahmed was filled with laughter and distracted attention from my mother anger and sadness. He was close to me. When he wanted to do something I understand easily, over time, arrived to the age of nine. Ahmed entered the kitchen when my mother was not there.
That day my mother she was putting hot water into the fire. He took the boiling water and poured it on his body. When I arrived from school, I found my brother in pain, his doctor the next day when I was sitting beside him, my brother died. After 11 years Ahmed passed away. It was a sad day for us. It was a tragedy.
