I’d say he looks peaceful, except his eyes are still open. And the blood is oozing everywhere.

I didn’t see him fall, but I heard the the end result. It wasn’t good. It was like a small explosion, but wet. The second I realize what it was that made the noise, I hurled. Vomit everywhere.

When my body finished heaving, I looked up, and my eyes locked with his.

Who was he? Why did he do this? Did he have nothing to live for?

I would never know. He could never tell me.

I felt sad for him. Sad that his life had taken some drastic and terrible turn that resulting in this, this human pancake on the sidewalk. Sad that his family or friends would have to bear this tragedy forever, maybe without answers, maybe without any clue as to why.

I stared into those blue eyes as the police put up the yellow tape. I stared while the reporters came racing in, and the paramedics put a black bag over his remains. I stared until an officer yelled at me.

I slowly came back to reality. No, I replied, I don’t know what happened here. Sad isn’t it?



This is Part One of a three part story. Be sure to check out Part Two.

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One thought on “Death: Perspective One

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