‘How sad,’ they would think, ‘she had her whole wonderful future ahead of her.’
It is only now when DEATH has introduced itself to me that I see things differently. All I can think is, “I’m not ready to go.” But DEATH grabs me by the hand, and says, “You’re coming with me.”
I am dragged through a corridor of holographic images and instead of seeing my life flash before me, I see his. He is beside me and watches helplessly as DEATH pulls me to Life’s exit door. All I feel is fear, perhaps it’s fear of the unknown or fear of simply not existing anymore or maybe even fear of the imminent pain I am about to endure. The feelings of fear are interrupted by a blistering pain in my head where the bullet enters my skull, but it only lasts for a breath and then it ends. The second right after DEATH is the greatest relief. Clarity at last. Peace finally. Everything was beautiful. Nothing hurt. That sounds familiar.
Dying lasts a moment and it lasts an eternity. Then I wake up again in the body of another being, another shell. Suddenly everything that was so clear is now just a distant memory and I don’t know whether it was a dream or reality. I can’t speak. All I do is cry. My legs are too weak to walk. Each day, I remember a little less until my hazy origins completely disappear. It usually takes a couple of years until I get accustomed to the new shell and accept it as my own. Once I embrace my fate, I begin fresh. I learn language and numbers, everything all over again, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t remember the past life. The life with him. Our shells are always different and we never remember each other yet we always seem to find one another.
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| "I love the gun" original art by my sis, Aguilar Jillian |
Written by my sister, Aguilar Jillian (and if you wanna take a look at her more visually stimulating blog thing, then click here)
Edited by the Aguilar Brothers (that’s how my sister and I affectionately refer to ourselves whenever we collaborate)
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