Roughdraft

I lay there as the puddle of blood began to spread wider and wider around my body. My lungs felt as if someone were squeezing them tighter and tighter. But then they let them go, and I was able to inhale again, only to be met with a tighter grip of cold, clammy hands.

Man, I should have thought this through a little better…

The warm liquid seeping from my body was contrasted against the cold chill that began to envelope me from the inside out.

I listened carefully, but there was nothing. Not a sound. One of those eerie silences when things are too silent, when you know something has to be making it that quiet. But nothing pounced from behind the corner and nothing burst through the back door. Just pure silence at its best. Or, had I gone deaf in the last moments of my life?? Or was this the moment of clarity they all speak of right before you pass..?

In my left hand was the long, sharp blade of the kitchen knife. My fingers barely gripping the rubbery handle..my numbing digits were trembling. The tip of the blade which wasn’t stained glistened against the afternoon sun shining through the window. The knife that had in the past cut so many onions, tomatoes, cucumbers, oranges, blocks of parmesan cheese….

In my right hand, I still clutched the Ice Cream Drumstick I had been craving for so bad after lunch. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to take a bite. The fall had caused most of the nuts to drop to the floor into the pond of scarlet. My mind trickled to the thought of how big the market would be for this vampiric dessert. How many vampires are there in Texas...? But then fell away as I realized I wouldn’t be alive to see the business plan through…but then again the thought wouldn’t have occurred to me if I hadn’t been laying in the pool of blood. If that isn’t the dandiest catch-22, I don’t know what is. Maybe if I gather up all my strength I'd be able to write at least the segmentation of the market in blood next to my body...oh how my professors would be so proud...

Man, I should have thought this through better.

It’s strange the things you think about at the brink of death. The impending doom makes you reflect. I wish it didn’t.

Like how I thought that maybe I should have straightened my hair today, maybe used a little hair gel, to look a little more presentable. But now the paramedics will have to deal with yet another homely looking body. Geez. And it probably would have helped to be wearing something a little more stylish. My plaid sleepy pants and polar bear t-shirt. What was I thinking?

What WAS I thinking?

I blinked a few times. I began seeing flecks of light floating in front of my face and I was worried mosquitoes were already flying around my decaying carcass.

Whose going to be at your funeral? [who said that?]

Everyone has that thought of what if they died, who would miss them. That’s a really narcissistic thought, but I’m 97.5 % sure that every single human being has that thought cross their mind at least once in their lives. If only we could all stage our death and then as we’re being lamented about in our casket layered with cakes and cakes of unnecessary make-up but your perfectionist self wouldn’t see it any differently….you suddenly pop up in an upright position while your Aunt Mae was about to put the carnation on your legs slick and shiny from the panty hose. You jump out of your casket and say with enthusiasm--

Thanks everybody, but I just wanted to see how many people would come and let me tell ya, you people exceeded my expectations. Thank you. Thank you. Lorna, how ya doin? Uncle Bob, always a pleasure. Jesse from college, wow, now that’s a shocker, wow. Alright, how about all the guys untuck their shirts and all the gals wipe away their running mascara and let's get this party started…and let’s have a piece of that cake too. Chocolate, my fav, yum!

But would it make any difference. Would knowing that information really cause a resurrection of yourself and would that version necessarily be better?

I should have thought this through.

But no. People don’t do that. They just hide away in their thoughts the yearning of the attendance of their impending funeral. We all just want to think that people care about us or at least the people who we cared about knew and that was enough to make them show up anyhow.

What are you going to miss? [who is that speaking?!]

That was the next thought that came to my mind. I thought of all the zigzagging and jumps as my tiny brain cells began their last race around.

The way Dad always left his keys in the door.
The way Mom cooked---goddamn, her famous custard tarts.
Bowling and getting drunk with my big sister and friends.
Watching my little brother and sister grow—seeing the mere shadows of the amazing people they were going to inevitably become.
The feeling of a thought being born in my head and the how I always think to write it down but I always get lazy and think I’ll remember, but then feeling it slowly slipping away.
How I loved reading and finishing novels and how perfectly the words lit up as bright sunlight hit the pages at the perfect angle.
When in the middle of the city, I saw a beautiful African woman balancing what seemed to be a heavy box on top of her head without a care in the world.
The complete calm you get when you’re standing in front of a painting in a museum—drowning in the artistic ambiance.
Taking a really good drag from a sweet cigar.

Oh, my life was pretty good. I guess this is it. Man. Everything seems so clear when it’s already too late. I guess that’s the essence of hindsight. Wait…wait…here comes something else.

What do you wish?

I wish I had done more..and hesitated less.