gown. The room was empty except for us, but there was background chatter, as though we were dining in a crowded, fancy restaurant. A piano played in the background, a familiar song I couldn’t recall. I put my hand to my mouth and noticed it was gone. I tried to feel the outlines of my lips and teeth, but they had vanished, and all that remained was a smooth, gruesome patch of skin. I began to panic.
I looked down at the silverware that sparkled like stars in the sky, and the tablecloth resembled a giant galaxy. Death gestured with its hands, as if to say, “Bon appétit,” but there was nothing to eat onmy side of the table. I looked across to see a large, sterling silver lid covering a platter. Death’s bony fingers reached down to grab the handle, and it said pleasantly, “You know how badly you’ve wanted me to come.” Its voice was ecstasy echoing through my life. It spoke graciously. “There are so many people imprisoned by their bodies, and I am the peace that lets them escape it. I know you’ve been waiting for me. I know about the teasing, the sleepless nights, the terrorizing dream you have of being an Olympian. I can make it all go away; I can help you become a star in the sky and you will eternally shine your light down on your family.”
Just then its bony fingers pulled back the silver lid, exposing a grisly set of raw lungs—my lungs. They were sitting on a bloody plate and still breathing, like two captured fish about to die. I looked down at my hospital gown and touched my chest, and there was a huge, open hole where my lungs used to be. I was empty, and if I stood naked, one could see right through me. Death grabbed the shiny silverware and began cutting into my lungs, slowly and evenly, and I felt the gnawing pain beneath my skin even though they were no longer in my body. I wanted to scream, to yell in pain, but I had no mouth, breath, or voice. Blood oozed out of my lungs as Death mindlessly cut into each slice, raised the piece to its mouth, and began to chew. I felt a sensation more agonizing than the cutting. I felt Death consuming my lungs, and the torture was unbearable. My blood dripped from the corners of its mouth, and still, Death looked attractive. It leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. I wiped the stain of the bloody kiss off my skin. Its seduction was paralyzing, and for a moment I had no pain. I felt free, sacred, and complete.
I woke up on the couch with sweat stinging my eyes and fear closing my throat. All the agony on Earth was concentrated in the center of my chest. My small, clasped hands turned to fists, fighting and drawing breath from beneath the Earth. I gasped and struggled, but nothing happened. Eventually that intense pain would become unbearable as Death waited patiently for me to beg. It wasn’t going to take my life unless I willingly gave it away. However, along with that discomfort came the greatest desire to hold on and fight to keep breathing with every fiber of my being. I should have called an ambulance, but Iwaited for my mom to come home. The hours fell into the night and the sun would come up again, releasing her from the underworld. She would help me breathe again, ridding Death from my body, but morning was far away and I was losing the battle.
I couldn’t hold on much longer. As I went in and out of consciousness, Death spoke to me, whispering its quiet intentions. It told me I could lie down and surrender as it naturally plucked me from the Earth the way I thoughtlessly picked flowers. It told me the transformation would be quick and all my struggles would be over. I wanted to give in; I wanted to lie down and relinquish, but I couldn’t. To this day I don’t know what kept me going. My life force refused to hear the solemn sounds of Death, and fought every second for survival. This was proof that the body, of its own accord, wants to live; but Death wasn’t leaving without a fight, tempting me with heaven and its sweet, watery
I looked down at the silverware that sparkled like stars in the sky, and the tablecloth resembled a giant galaxy. Death gestured with its hands, as if to say, “Bon appétit,” but there was nothing to eat onmy side of the table. I looked across to see a large, sterling silver lid covering a platter. Death’s bony fingers reached down to grab the handle, and it said pleasantly, “You know how badly you’ve wanted me to come.” Its voice was ecstasy echoing through my life. It spoke graciously. “There are so many people imprisoned by their bodies, and I am the peace that lets them escape it. I know you’ve been waiting for me. I know about the teasing, the sleepless nights, the terrorizing dream you have of being an Olympian. I can make it all go away; I can help you become a star in the sky and you will eternally shine your light down on your family.”
Just then its bony fingers pulled back the silver lid, exposing a grisly set of raw lungs—my lungs. They were sitting on a bloody plate and still breathing, like two captured fish about to die. I looked down at my hospital gown and touched my chest, and there was a huge, open hole where my lungs used to be. I was empty, and if I stood naked, one could see right through me. Death grabbed the shiny silverware and began cutting into my lungs, slowly and evenly, and I felt the gnawing pain beneath my skin even though they were no longer in my body. I wanted to scream, to yell in pain, but I had no mouth, breath, or voice. Blood oozed out of my lungs as Death mindlessly cut into each slice, raised the piece to its mouth, and began to chew. I felt a sensation more agonizing than the cutting. I felt Death consuming my lungs, and the torture was unbearable. My blood dripped from the corners of its mouth, and still, Death looked attractive. It leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. I wiped the stain of the bloody kiss off my skin. Its seduction was paralyzing, and for a moment I had no pain. I felt free, sacred, and complete.
I woke up on the couch with sweat stinging my eyes and fear closing my throat. All the agony on Earth was concentrated in the center of my chest. My small, clasped hands turned to fists, fighting and drawing breath from beneath the Earth. I gasped and struggled, but nothing happened. Eventually that intense pain would become unbearable as Death waited patiently for me to beg. It wasn’t going to take my life unless I willingly gave it away. However, along with that discomfort came the greatest desire to hold on and fight to keep breathing with every fiber of my being. I should have called an ambulance, but Iwaited for my mom to come home. The hours fell into the night and the sun would come up again, releasing her from the underworld. She would help me breathe again, ridding Death from my body, but morning was far away and I was losing the battle.
I couldn’t hold on much longer. As I went in and out of consciousness, Death spoke to me, whispering its quiet intentions. It told me I could lie down and surrender as it naturally plucked me from the Earth the way I thoughtlessly picked flowers. It told me the transformation would be quick and all my struggles would be over. I wanted to give in; I wanted to lie down and relinquish, but I couldn’t. To this day I don’t know what kept me going. My life force refused to hear the solemn sounds of Death, and fought every second for survival. This was proof that the body, of its own accord, wants to live; but Death wasn’t leaving without a fight, tempting me with heaven and its sweet, watery
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