Death and Memories

Death and Memories

Beep…beep…beep…

So, this is what dying felt like, huh?

…

Dude, this blows.

Zero stars, this is NOT enjoyable. I thought dying was peaceful or at least scary; this is just painful!

“Okay, focus!” I forced my barely functioning brain to this, “Who are you? Where are you?”

After a moment I can feel my inner voice roll its eyes…somehow- dude I don’t know dying is weird.

I don’t remember a thing.

“Don’t panic, don’t panic, DON’T PANIC!” My mind screams. Look who’s talking, I am very much not panicking.

Am I?

Okay, getting off track again, I need to remember something, anything.

…

I got nothing.

“Think of something you love, something that makes you want to hold on,” my inner voice rationalizes.

Something I love.

…

Yeah, still nothing.

“Oh my god! GET IT TOGETHER!” my brain screams.

Damn, okay relax.

I conjure up an older woman, I can tell she’s pretty despite being faceless in my broken mind, she feels…

Like home.

“Mom,” the voice calls, “that’s mom.”

See, I did it, take that mean inner monologue lady.

“Now, think of something you hate.”

Something I hate…

Oh, that’s easy.

The color yellow, the smell of Axe body spray, the sound of children wailing, and the list goes on.

I may not remember who I am, but one thing is for sure; I am one of hell of a hater.

“What’s your name, you know this you have to.” I try to dig deep, but nothing stands out.

Shit I can’t die nameless, that’s actually embarrassing.

Imagine just me showing up in heaven (fingers crossed) and they ask for my name and I just blank.

Ugh, I hate it here.

“MAYBE TRY REMEBERING WHERE ‘HERE’ IS!” My inner monologue lady yells.

I may not remember who or where I am, but I know for sure I am one angry mother-

Okay, let’s keep it PG.

Who am I?

Think me think.

“Come back to me…please.”

…

Great, in addition to dying, I am hearing MULTIPLE voices.

I love it.

“That wasn’t in your head, there’s someone there.”

Why is that voice so familiar?

“Remember her,” my mind commands and all of a sudden, I am taken back in a memory.

Hannah.

It’s Hannah, my best friend since elementary school.

My best friend is crying, begging me to come back and I have no idea who I even am.

Dying seriously sucks.

“She knows who we are, ask her.”

Brilliant idea, why haven’t I thought of that.

One slight problem, I am kind of in the middle of living my final moments, so yeesh that blows.

“She can’t be dead; she just can’t be!” Hannah screams at who I assume is the doctor.

“The damage to her brain is severe ma’am, even if she does wake up, she may not be the same.” The doctor responded.

Way to add insult to injury.

“You need to remember who you are while your brain still works.”

Yes, I do.

…

Dammit, why can’t I get it.

“Talking to her could help, try to make her remember.” The doctor suggests.

“FINALLY, someone with a brain!”

HEY! YOU’RE MY BRAIN.

Ugh, anyway, this is my chance.

“Remember the time we went to the beach, and you sat on a jellyfish, you still have a mark on your behind,” the sound of watery laughter fills my ears as my supposed best friend recounts a horrendous tale.

I, unfortunately, do remember that.

What a great reminder to keep me grounded to the word, girl, keep it up!

“We were wearing a blue swimsuit and had long hair.”

Do I still have long hair?

Something in my gut told me I didn’t.

God why is remembering so hard?

“Do you remember how good your hair looked at graduation? Honestly, you just looked good, doing your little speech…I was so proud and I still am.”

The memory of me being pronounced valedictorian springs up.

I have a good brain…

Or had.

Maybe it is better if I don’t remember who I am, maybe then the loss won’t crush me.

“You aren’t giving up, we aren’t, that’s not who we were.”

I don’t KNOW who I was, why would it matter if I died without that knowledge.

“WE KNOW IT ISN’T US!” my mind screams at me.

“I don’t know how to make you remember, but I am here…I am always here, Audrey.”

…

Audrey.

Audrey.

Audrey.

My name is Audrey Black.

I am twenty-one years old.

I have short hair.

I have a best friend.

I have parents.

I remember.

I remember…

Everything hurts; why does everything hurt?

White, hot pain engulfs me, and I want to scream till my lungs fail me.

But I can’t.

My body refuses to move, to cooperate, to scream, to see.

It’s all too much.

Agony and memories all flash through my body at once, giving me an out of body experience I never would have wished for.

*Flash*

Making my first friend in third grade.

*Flash*

Being home alone for the first time.

*Flash*

Losing my passion.

*Flash*

Smiling.

*Flash*

Crying.

*Flash*

*Flash*

*Flash*

Everything melts together as the end nears me, I can feel it and it’s not good.

Being at peace is overrated huh?

“I am glad you find dying so amusing because it’s happening, this is it.”

This is it.

I remembered, but at what cost?

It’s getting worse.

“MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP!” my mind scrambles as my brain functions decline.

I wish I can.

I never thought about dying.

I never wanted to.

I should just drift off and it will be over.

“IT’S OVER. THERE IS NOTHING LEFT. JUST TAKE ME.”

My eyes open, but I can’t see.

I can’t hear.

I can’t breathe.

But I remember.

I remember.

I remember.

I REMEMBER.

And as I take my final breath, I hear the last sound I will hear: screams.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Name: Audrey Marie Black

Age: 21

Sex: Female

Cause of death: crushed lungs/fractured skull

Last words: “I remember.”

THE END