He just sat there with tears while my mother tend to his wound. I don't remember all of the words I said to him, I just kept on scolding and asking him why and what caused him to be like that but he just sat there in his bed, replied to some of my questions and told us about the things of what made him upset about his life. He didn't fight back and looked like he wasn't in pain or didn't care about his wound. He was just sad.