The Growth of a Forest

My First Coherent Thoughts Of Death

One night, when I was 8 or 9, I was lying awake beside my aunt on the bed. I was staring at the shadows on the ceiling, cast by traffic lights 23 stories down, and was thinking about death.

I'm not sure how I got to the topic of death. I just remember staring off into the darkness and thinking "This is what death is like". I got really scared. Death finally materialized itself into my young mind not as an abstract concept, but eternal blackness. Loneliness. Emptiness. With no one to miss you, hug you, or even just sit by your side. I got so scared that I frantically shook my aunt awake beside me and whispered "I'm scared of dying". I think she was pretty shocked by what I said, but she just replied with "Go to sleep" and returned to her slumber. I fell asleep soon after, lulled by her soft snoring.

She must have remembered what I said though, because I remember her asking me, a few days later, where that thought had come from. I replied "I'm not sure". And that was the end of that conversation.

I was really mean to my aunt sometimes back then. I would throw temper tantrums (for reasons I have forgotten) and would only eat certain dishes for meals. I also remember accusing her of stabbing me with a needle in front of my parents once. She got super mad at me for that. (Though to be fair, I'm pretty sure she did stab me with a needle once). But at the end of the day, we would both crawl into bed and slumber together.

I remember one time, I woke up in the middle of the night and looked to my side at my aunt. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was gaping wide-open and her head was jerking slightly. She looked like she was silently screaming. I shook her awake, scared that she was sick or something. But she said it was only a nightmare. She thanked me for waking her up, tucked my securely under the blankets (I have a problem with kicking off the covers in my sleep), and fell asleep again.

In the morning, she would shake me awake against my will, force me groggily into my funny-smelling uniform (that detergent we used was funky) and make me get out of bed. She would then give me a pineapple bun from the local bakery and wait with me downstairs for the schoolbus to come pick me up. We got up really early, at 6am each day, so that I could make the schoolbus. Those days were spent waking up and sleeping early. Before bedtime, my aunt would sometimes ask me to help her get out of her clothes, because she sometimes couldn't reach all the way back to the zipper of her shirt or dress. She would also sometimes ask me to use special suction cups to ease her body aches. I found it to be great fun because I got to use a gun-like thing to suck the air out of the cups.

I'm not quite sure why or how I've lost touch with her now. I guess I just don't miss people as much as I should.