They say its impossible to see death. But I did.
It was late at night. I was struggling to fall asleep. I was an old man who had a brilliant life. But I didn't think it would end so soon.
My window opened. I wondered if I was dreaming, so I stayed in my bed. If I was in danger, I would attack. But now, I had to rest. So I did. But as I did, I felt death's presence near me. It was cold, with an invisible grip on you as soon as it was in the same room as you were.
I opened my eyes, sensing the presence. I looked around. I saw a shadow move just out of view, dark, coarsing with nothing but a freezing, null void. I shivered. What was here?
I sat up, using the strength from my wobbly, old body. The shadow was gone, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was close. That I had just felt the presence of death.
I ran downstairs, grabbing my cane. I had never felt so invigorated, yet so vulnerable. It was here, and I had to fight it.
I saw my son at the kitchen table by himself, reading a book with a cover I couldn't read in the darkness. "Dad?" He smiled, but I could see the confusion. "Whatd'ya doin' up so late, old man?" I stared at him, breathing heavily. There was so many things I thought, and so many I wanted to say. But only these words came out: "I saw it, finally. But that sucker won't get me!" I yelled in fury. It wanted to take me away from my family, and my life. I still had time left to change the world, but it wanted that time to never be used.
I ran out of our house. The cicadas buzzed as I stepped behind the bushes and into the forest that lay outside of our backyard. The forest was thorny from the excess of bushes. Critters ran away from me as I walked through their tracks in the area of woodland that had been untouched by men's deathly hand. The forest was alive and well.
Yet, I still felt death surrounding me. It's cold grip touched my shoulder. I could turn and spin in circles and never see it, but it never let go. I was marked. "Why take me now, you bastard?" I swung my cane in the air.
Rain started to pour. I still walked, aimlessly in the forest, trying to escape death's grasp. Part of me wanted to give up and go to bed. Yes, I had checked the weather forecast. A harsh thunderstorm. But I knew, if the lightning didn't strike me down, then death would get me in my sleep.
So I continued. "Why now? I've lived through the ages, raised armies and fought for this land. Yet you insist on my death! Like my enemies, ha! I wonder what happened to them?" Still, silence. Maybe death can't speak. It's a silent killer, after all. What if I can't avoid it, no matter how hard I wrestle with it?
Thunder cracked in the distance. The rain had soaked me good, but I wanted to enjoy one last battle. I sighed. I knew, like all things, I tried to run and hide from death, or even fight it. But no one could win this battle. All of life was just a dance from the inevitability. A fun, joyful dance that never ceased, until death's long, pristine fingers caught your shoulder. I wouldn't see my family again. My legacy would be kept throughout the ages, but all dances can't last. I closed my eyes. But death didn't strike.
I opened them, once again, sticking my cane out to use as a weapon. Anger filled my body, coursing through my vains. Strike me now. Strike me now. It was still their. I still felt it. But where was it? I walked around aimlessly once again, the lightning illuminating the dark sky. "You bastard! If my time has truly come, then take me and leave my family to mourn!"
As I walked around, the moment finally occurred. I stumbled on a branch, falling without the help of my cane. Lightning striked directly infront of me, illuminating the night. And in that bright light, I saw death cast it's shadow on all things good, it's long fingers reaching for me.
"Hello."
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This is inspired by a quote made by Thomas R. Marshall after Theodore Roosevelt died in his sleep: "Death had to take Roosevelt sleeping, for if he had been awake, there would have been a fight."
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