A Moment of Mortality

I'm not going to sugar coat this. Life has been crappy lately. One good thing happens and then something equally bad occurs. It's been getting really tiring and it's caused my friends and I to partake in the age old habit of talking about it. We've discussed a lot lately. We've talked about mortality, life, growing up...about how all our teachers seem to keep saying, "It doesn't get any better," and how we just wish one person would tell us not that it would get better but that we're going to be alright. 

Anyway, I've taken these conversations we've had and used them to write up a little piece of creative nonfiction, which I've titled A Moment of Mortality. I was particularly alive today and decided I'd use my good mood to create this. Read and enjoy...or don't...I mean, whatever floats your boat. 


A Moment of Mortality 

“We should crossover.”

“But I’m not ready to yet.”

“There’s a car behind us! If we don’t cross now then we really will be crossing over.”

“Aw, but I want to die.”

“I want to die too, but that doesn’t mean I want to die now. I still have a lot I want to do first. A lot of places to see...”

“A lot of things I want to draw…”

“To write…”

“To do…”

“To try…”

“But death would be easy.”

“It really would be. Think about it. If we died now all our problems would be solved. No more Walmart trips, no more scrounging for loose change to buy a pop, no more pain, no more trying to find the right guy, no more heartache, no more tears, no more stress…no more student loans or trying to fight the unknown.”

“We’d be embracing the unknown.” 

“It’s not unknown. I know where I’ll end up…I’ve heard Heaven’s lovely this time of the year…but it’s not time. I’ve got my ticket, I’m just not ready to board the plane. You know?” 

“Yeah. I know what you mean. Can I tell you a secret though? Sometimes I play with my knife and think about how easy it’d be to slide it across my wrist. I bet the blood would look pretty. It’d make things easier….”

“Easier isn’t always better. You really ready to go now?”

“Hmmm, no…not unless I could haunt a few people. That might be worth cutting my time short. You think when we die we’ll get a chance to haunt someone?” 

“I don’t know. Don’t think I’d take it if we do.” 

“There’s a few people I’d like to haunt. A few that deserve it.”

“If I haunted someone it’d be someone I know really well. Someone I like to mess with.”

“You’d pull pranks on them.”

“Yep. It’d be the only reason to stay.”

“What about unfinished business?”

“What about it?”

“Wouldn’t you want to finish it?”

“Would you want to finish a term paper over summer vacation?”

“I guess you’re right…I bet Heaven’s lovely.”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

“A lot better than school. I’m getting really tiered of staring at brick walls.”

“Enjoy it. In a few years people are going to be asking you, ‘What’s next?’ and you won’t have an answer.”

“You really don’t know?”

“I didn’t become a Lit. Major for an easy life. I never really knew what I’d do with the degree but I always knew that writers never have it easy. The history of our career is full of violence, and blood, and alcohol. But we’re needed. We have a job to do, you know? The world needs us.”

“Yeah, I know. You haven’t resorted to alcohol yet, though.”

“I think about it every once in a while. I’ve had wine before, you know. It was actually pretty good.”

“Then why don’t you drink it regularly? Alcohol numbs. It’d make life easier.”

“I doubt that. Besides, there’s history between my family and wine. I’ve heard some horror stories.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We can’t die…we can’t drink…we can’t sleep around…there’s really nothing we can do to escape, is there?”

“…that’s why I write…”

“To escape?”

“No, because it’s a better alternative. It’s a healthy coping mechanism…some writer once said that you have to stay drunk on writing so reality won’t destroy you. He really hit the nail on the head. There’s just so much bad in the world. So much stress. Someone has to write about it. To let future generations know that there’s still hope. You want to know what’s worse, though?”

“What?”

“We’ll never really know just how bad it can get. I can write about all the crap the world throws at me and I can hope that it’ll help give someone else hope, but while we’re sitting here in a Walmart parking lot, drinking cheap bottles of pop, complaining about how tough our lives are and how easy it’d be to die, there are millions of other people out there that have it so much worse than us. Our problems are kind of petty, in retrospect.” 

“Maybe we just like the idea of flirting with death.”

“Maybe we’re just highly aware of our mortality. I mean, yeah, death would be easy, but seriously…I’m fine with my life right now.”

“Really? Even after all the crap that’s happened this week? This month?”

“Yeah. Even after all that. You know why?”

“Why?” 

“Because I may not know where I’m going in life but I know I have the means to make it. I’ve got a full tank of gas, enough money to make a trip home this next weekend, and I know who I am.”

“I wish I could say that. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“Girl, take it from me. I know I don’t have too many years on you, but in my experience one has to lose themselves before they can find them.”

“Endure the rain to get the sun.”

“Exactly.”

“Speaking of rain. Those clouds look pretty bad.”

“Yeah, we should get back before the storm rolls in.” 

“Procrastination party?”

“Can’t afford one. The time’s come to stop loitering in parking lots and to start writing about the impact the Fine Arts has on campus.”

“I hate having responsibilities.”

“It’s part of growing up.” 

“Growing up sucks.”

“Ha! Yes, it does. As much as I’m okay with my life, if I had known it’d be like this, I would have taken sometime to slow down and enjoy all those stupid sleepovers more…all those bike accidents…nights babysitting to buy that new Star Wars book…hey, listen to me, alright? This time, next year, you’re going to be here studying away and I’m going to be back in Nebraska doing God knows what –And that’s not cursing. He’s really the only one who knows what I’ll be doing right now –so listen up. I know you’re not that big of a people person, but take some time to pretend you’re a socialite. Take some time to slow down by hoping into the fast lane. Some of the greatest nights I’ve had here I didn’t say a word during, but sometimes words aren’t needed.”

“That’s real rich coming from a writer. Do you even hear what you’re saying?”

“Do you even hear what I’m saying? The moments I’ve felt the most alive have been the ones where I took time to go out for a good time with a group of people. I may not have said much, but when you’re driving through Kansas City at night and the lights of the Plaza light up the street like a runway, and there’s good music blaring from the stereo, and you’re surrounded by good people, it’s not the words that mater. It’s the almost overwhelming feeling of living. Death might be easy, but I’m pretty damn sure that life’s worth it.”