Chapter Text
Despite some intrusive thoughts from time to time, I never truly contemplated the possibility of death. Which was ironic, considering how terrified I am of life.
And yet, right now, staring at a truck coming right to my face, seconds away from impact, I can’t help but think that, somehow, the idea of death was not giving me any feelings of despair.
I glance to my side, to the little girl just barely out of the street, pushed against her mom, who’s holding her tightly as she looks at me with horror in her eyes. I feel sorry for what she’ll have to see, but at the same time, I remain calm.
Better me than her daughter.
As the seconds drag, and I turn back to the truck, everything slows down. I can’t help but think about my life. About mother and father, and what they will feel when they get the news. Will they feel anything? Will they even spare a moment to think about the son that they never saw for months at a time? Will they remember the last conversation they had? (that once again, was just grades and how ungrateful their son was, as always).
With a hint of bitterness, I conclude that no. No, they won’t.
My life was like a wallflower, I realize. Always on the side, ignored, glanced for a moment before being forgotten. A truly hollow life that will find at least some meaning in his last moments, after saving a child. What’s funny is how I didn’t truly realize what I was doing until I pushed the kid from the road.
A phrase from a series I followed long ago came to mind. “All great heroes move without thinking.”
I couldn’t help but smile as my time ran out, closing my eyes.
Yeah.
I am okay with this.
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Warmth. Darkness. Death truly was peaceful.
And then, sudden pressure. Trembling. All heat was washed away, and I felt shivering. Suddenly, all senses overstimulated. Could feel unwanted touches, grabbing me, screams all around with other strange sounds, and I couldn’t breathe, was choking on something, and then-
I could breathe again. I heard crying and screams and an erratic beeping sound. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t. Everything felt heavy and messy, my body unable to respond to my wishes. What is this? Am I not dead? Did I survive somehow? Oh god, am I now paralyzed?...
Bit by bit the overwhelming senses calmed down. I could realize some things, how I was now being held by trembling arms, how those cries were mine, how the voices around were panicking, saying things I couldn’t understand. How a female voice, familiar, but at the same time foreign, called by my side, saying something… No idea what. But the voice made me slowly open my eyes.
The first thing I noticed was the one holding me. She was a woman with dark, straight hair, all messy, dressed in a white gown of sorts. She was smiling at me, her sky-blue eyes half-closed, skin unusually pale. The second thing was the man at her side, with dark greyish curly hair and dark grayish blue eyes, whispering something to her, desperation clear in his face. The woman then glanced at the man slowly, like the action of turning her head aside was tiresome to her. She also said something, and the man suddenly froze, his eyes becoming humid with tears. Around, people with white masks covering their faces were moving out of my vision.
The third thing that I noticed was how big everything looked, or maybe it was me who was small and-
Wait a minute…
The woman closed her eyes, her tiny smile never leaving her face. The man’s lips trembled, whispering to the other while shaking his head. Someone then took me away and I tried to reach out, noticing one tiny, bloody hand as I tried to. Too small compared to my body…
As I was dragged away, I could hear a sudden scream. Wails of pain and sorrow from the man that I could no longer see. My heart sank, and the feelings around me became overwhelming again. I felt myself crying again, having a sudden need for a warmth that wasn’t there anymore, one part of me becoming drowsy, while the other realized the horror of what just happened.
Would this new life begin with the death of another, innocent one?
Would it bring nothing but suffering to another, whose cries I could still hear, even as I was losing consciousness?
If I could, I would laugh at the irony.
Oh, how I wished I could’ve just stayed dead.