Untold Stories

Death

Disclaimer!!!
- I'll be talking quite a lot about said topic; death, so please bare in mind and skip the chapter if you'd like.
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Death.

It's odd.

Sometimes it's unfair and confusing and sometimes it's fair and understandable.

A woman who's been in a hospital for months, in pain, who finally decides that she's too tired and just wants to go, that's understandable. Someone suddenly dying in a car crash from a drunk driver, while in route to their son's wedding, is unfair.

But why does someone being murdered hurt more than someone dying from natural courses; a death no one inflicted on them, just the body taking its natural course? But then he could have taken a different route to work and she could have drunk less, right? Do we really care that they did these things or are we hurt by the end results and just need something to make ourselves feel better about. Because what if right?
Is there really such a thing as a natural death. Because he dies of old age? But then again he could have eaten healthier and exercised better.

I guess what I'm trying to say is if it's not your time, it's not your time and when it's time its time. People usually say "I escaped death, I almost died". Could it be that you weren't meant to die because it wasn't your time? Just like he didn't take a different route or that she didn't drink less and neither did he eat healthier and exercise. Because it was their time to die. It all led to that point, because there's a reason why it was all connected. Right? Or is this just me trying to make myself feel better?

Just a day ago my mother informed me of a death. Someone's death. Someone close to me. Someone that I didn't necessarily see every day, but someone that I saw a few times a month. They gave me advice, they told me it was nice seeing me. I  had just spent more than eight months without seeing them and then when I came back, I saw them.
That is the last time I ever saw them again.
What tugs onto my heart is the fact that I am never going to see them again. That last memory I have of shaking their hand is all I can keep now. That was our last encounter. Had I not decided to see them that day would I have ever again? There's a reason why I went to see him, there's a reason why I didn't say "I'll go later, some other time".

So I locked myself in my room. I didn't cry. I haven't cried since my cousin and grandmother's death. I know everyone expected me to cry. It's only natural. He's gone. But if they had not seen me cry they would have been worried about me and I guess crying in privacy gives people more time to dwell on memories and think to themselves. Speak, say something; how they're going to miss the said person who passed away.
I think it's going to hit me one day. The pain, missing them, for now, I just speak to them, wherever they are.

I believe that there is a heaven, but I also believe that there is something else out there. Someplace that people go to, their souls, where we will meet again when our time comes. I refuse to believe that there's just two; heaven and hell. It sounds too black and white. You get evil people, Hitler was evil and I believe he's in hell. You get saints, Lucia was a saint and I believe she's in heaven. Then you get the average human being.

Where do we go?

Did I steal a bag of chips from the convenient store and forget to repent, therefore I deserve to succumb to the same fate as Hitler? A bag of chips versus more than 6 million lives?

I believe there is a place, there, somewhere.

Lately I've also found myself being fascinated with death.

A car, a knife, asphyxiation, boulder, fire, drowning, natural causes.

I am not suicidal, but the concept of what comes after, fascinates me and I am not in a hurry to find out. My time will come.
Some people do know when they are going to die, I guess that relates to the manner you're going to die. Someone amidst trying not to drown knows they are drowning and possibly dying. The when is a matter of possibilities; are you stuck in a pool where people can jump in and rescue you or are you stuck in a tiny, sinking boat at sea with nothing but the vast ocean around you. But then again there is hope.

There's a game that people play: Would you rather know when you're going to die or how you're going to die?

Neither.

I want to know what's going to happen after. Knowing when and how means I'll aimlessly spend my entire life trying to prevent the inevitable or I'll accept my fate and live my life to the fullest knowing when or how I'll die, but at the same time spend my entire life avoiding being alone because any alone time you get your mind will drift to what you know; your death. I find peace and tranquillity in being alone and a life of chaos and constant worrying because I know how or when I'm going to die wouldn't be life would it.

So what happens after? Is it going to be like in movies where my soul leaves my body and I'm seen gazing down onto my lifeless body as family members surround it?

Or is death the end?

That you don't get to see, experience anything after your death? That as soon as you die, that's the end of it all? And then maybe, just maybe, because I have hope, you wake up in some place, heaven, hell, whatever it may be and you're with everyone you ever lost along the way and you're reunited again.

I guess there is some irony to this. I already spend my life being alone, worrying and wondering what really is out there for after this. But then I'm also at peace knowing that I could find out anytime.

I already know how I'm going to die. There are countless possibilities out there that I have already seen, read or heard about it. Most commonly a natural death, car crash...When? With my weak immune system, I hardly think I'll make it to a hundred, so between now and a hundred, that's when I'm going to do.

So my question is, what comes next, with me after I die?

I already know what my family will do. They will grieve, they will cry and talk about me and my friends will laugh and cry whilst my parents talk about how innocent I was, only because they know what I got up to in the early hours of the morning. Will I be seated right next to them as they all sit in the reception area and enjoy coffee and scorns talking among each other? Only this time it'll be my soul, invisible and reminiscing of a life that could have been. Or won't I be there because death is the end?

I'm sad, I'm angry, but that's life. Tomorrow will be better I believe. but then again I never know.

Can only hope.

-Rip FHS