I Blinked and I Was Dead

I blinked and I was dead. Just like that. One second, I was alive and the next, dead. Yep, dead as a doornail, to borrow a famous phrase, which I've never understood really. I mean, of all the objects to be compared to death, a doornail would not have been at the top of my list. Maybe “dead as driftwood” or “dead as a coffin.” I guess there is the fact that the doornail was never alive, being made of metal and all, so the comparison becomes not only the obvious one of being very much dead but also that he may not have been alive in the first place.

Funny how much clearer you think when you're dead.

But still, the whole dying thing was much faster than I'd thought it would be. In the movies, everything slows down, and the person's life passes before their eyes like a fast-forwarded film. Honestly, I was kinda looking forward to that part. Well, a part of me looked forward to it; the other part dreaded semi-reliving every moment of my life. So when that didn't happen at all, I felt cheated, just a bit. I shouldn't really be surprised though since Hollywood over-dramatizes everything.

I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't blinked. Would I still be dead? Would I have lived to be married, had kids, spoiled grandkids, and finally died in a nursing home, filled with tubes? Would I have been happier? Made others happier? Brought about world peace? But who's to say I made the world better. Maybe I'd become the next world dictator or a serial killer. Would I have been a mean, selfish person who died alone and unnoticed? Or passed my days in utter obscurity? We'll never know. Because I'm dead.

Really now though, I'm not bitter about dying. It's just kind of amusing to think of “what-ifs,” like imagining what could have happened if you went left instead of right at a fork in the road. You'll never know so might as well imagine something crazy, right? I do have some regrets, people I wish I could have seen again or projects I wish I had completed. I hope this doesn't mean I become a ghost or anything. From what I've seen and read of them, it would stink to be one.

I will say this though about dying as quickly as I did. It didn't hurt. Often when reading a historical novel or watching some modern drama, I'd wonder how much it would hurt to die on the edge of sword or by a speeding bullet. In my experience, I felt nothing at all. I blinked and I was dead.

Writing Challenge - Day 6

He looked down at his hands; they were shaking. He tried to get them to stop but they refused to obey. As he sat there, television rolling in front of him, he could feel his heart mimicking his hands. His breaths grew short and quick, as if his lungs couldn't bear to be full for very long.

"It can't be," he thought. "It can't be."

His hands still shaking, he took the phone in both hands for fear he'd let it drop. Slowly, he typed the numbers and put the phone to his ear. The dial tone rang once.

"Oh good, it's working."

Second dial tone.

Third dial tone.

"Maybe his phone's on vibrate and that's why he's not picking up. That's got to be it."

Fourth dial tone.

"Come on, Kurt. Come on."

Fifth dial tone.

"Kurt!"

"Hello?" answered a strange male voice.

His hands had steadied and pulse slowed when the phone had been answered but renewed their activity at the non-Kurt voice.

"Who are you? Where's Kurt?" he demanded with more vehemence than perhaps the recipient deserved.

"Calm down, sir," said the strange voice. "Who am I speaking to?"

"Cameron, Cameron Sturgeon."

"What is your relation to ... Kurt?"

"I'm his brother. Now put him on."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sturgeon, but that won't be possible."

"No ... no ... it has to be possible. You have his phone so he has to be there. Give him the phone!"

"Mr. Sturgeon, please. I'm sorry to have to tell you this over the phone but ... your brother Kurt is dead."

P.S. So the weekend threw me off my regular routine (well, sort of routine) but hopefully I'll be able to keep up my streak after this.