Death

It’s amazing how things always turn out the way you don’t expect them to. Fate has a funny way of making sure that your best laid plans are rendered useless despite your most persistent efforts. Despite taking into account every variable, every anomaly. Maybe it’s God’s funny way, not fate’s. I’ll find out soon enough anyway. Oh, did I forget to mention? I’ve just been hit by a car and left to bleed and slowly ebb away on the side of this road. Curse the bastard. All I have now is the cold, icy drizzle and my thoughts for company. And that, too, will leave me soon. Forever.

I remember watching a movie once… it said something about how your whole life does NOT flash before your eyes the second before you die. It might take a second or two, but hell, it feels like an hour or two. All that’s important, all that’s dear to me… and I certainly regret not appreciating them earlier. Story of our lives, ain’t it? Never realizing what we have right under our noses until it’s gone.

Why didn’t that idiot stop his car in time? He could have avoided me. Is my life not as important as others?

I miss my mother. Never actually met her… so I guess I miss the personification of a mother. Something that was missing in my life ever since I was abandoned. Never tasting the pureness of a mother’s love had its effects on me. All I could do was to imagine Her stroking me to sleep each night, smothering me with warm kisses, singing me lullabies… but all I have now is the piercing pain stroking my legs, the warm blood smothering my face, and the traffic singing its endless cacophony of squeals and screeches. Not to the mention all the vulgarities that accompany it. I’m going off on a tangent here… but bear with me, I never imagined things would end up like this.

He could have stopped if he wanted to. Or he could have stopped after that, and checked on me. Bastard. Hope he burns in hell. Heck, I’ll personally make sure of that. Claw his pretty blue eyes out. And that would only just be the beginning.

In my perfect world, I would be an old fart when I die, and I wouldn’t be alone. Who’ll be cradling me in her arms? Not the cemented pavement. I’m not THAT sick. Although I’ve been told otherwise. You sort of get a reputation when you start to make your way up the ladder. You have to. The ‘tough guy’ image and all that bullshit. But I digress. Again. Can’t seem to hold a coherent thought for long. Part of this shitty process called dying I guess. No sign of any lights at the end of any tunnels yet, though.

People gather around, muttering words of sympathy. I can hear them, although I can’t see anything. Footsteps close enough for me to feel the vibration beneath my head. And it seems like I can’t feel my legs anymore. Sympathy doesn’t matter for much when nobody seems to give a damn about the fact that here I am dying, lying in a pool of gooey matter that must have originated from someplace within me. Life’s grand symphony ending in a bizarre catastrophe.

She was my best friend. Is my best friend. Watched her grow up from a brittle, restless young girl to a lady of unmatched beauty, whose presence would resonate across a street. Who made you think that the light in the room shone only on her. I’m exaggerating, of course. Nobody’s that great, but that is what she was to me. Beauty in person. And so much more.

I shared so much with her – my life, my hopes, my dreams, my love. Never actually told her how much I loved her. Would have spoiled the whole friendship thingie. So, I stood back and watched her fall in love. Shared her excitement and joy whilst I was burning inside with hate and sadness. Feeling so much joy at the sight of her smiling eyes, and so much remorse at the sight of my crying eyes. Stood back as I watched her walk away, taking my heart along with her. And my hopes. My dreams. My love. My life.

And truth be told, all I can think about now is her. Her, her, and only her. And that bastard who ought to end the pathetic excuse that is his life in a fiery blaze that should slowly slough the skin off his body. Among other things.

I love her. So much. And that is how this story will end. A non-existent love story with a tragic ending. Like so many before me, I fade away without as much as a blip in the grand scale of events, having loved someone who was oblivious of my affections. In retrospect, I guess I should have done something about it. Hearts would have been broken, lives shattered. But I would have known. I could have changed my life, turned things around. I could have been what I’ve always wanted to be - I could have been happy. Sigh…. hindsight is always 20-20, isn’t it?

And still nobody cares about poor little dying ol’ me.

I guess I do cut a pathetic figure – who’s going to bother about an ugly, dying cat mewing wretchedly? All that talk about cats having nine lives, is just that - Talk. Trust me, us felines only have one chance to make things right as well. And there’s nothing worse than leaving this world with nothing but regrets. All I can look forward to now is the tunnel. Where the hell is it anyway?