Life is... unpredictable. I found that death is even more so.
Everyone thinks that, when they hear of someone dying, there was no way that could happen to them. No one gives much thought to their own demise.
I was much the same.
They say live life to the fullest. Now, I'm not too sure who 'they' are, but I guess I really should have listened to them. If I could have.
As an introvert, it was almost physically impossible for me to go out and hang out with people, or do outrageous things like sky dive or bungee jump.
That's why it was really no surprise to me that I died in my bed, playing on my laptop.
But really, when you get the chance to do something that could change your life, but you're kind of unwilling to do it, you think 'I always have time to do it later.' Except when you don't.
So when the bomb hit New York (and isn't that just the most cliche thing you've ever heard? The only way it could have been worse was if the city was besieged by giant robots intent on world domination) I had an entire list built up of those life-changing 'do later' activities.
It was mid afternoon on a Wednesday. And really, who expects to die on a Wednesday? Nothing important ever happens on a Wednesday! Anyway, I had just gotten home from my job as a teller at the book store. I settled in with my cat and a cup of steaming tea, ready to pass the night in the virtual world, reading stories that people post in my favorite forums.
It took me a few minutes to note the ripples in my tea. Another cliche, really. I've seen so many movies, and read so many books that I really should have expected what came next.
A whistling sound filled reached my hearing, and it sounded like a plane flying over head. Not too abnormal. What was different was that the sound wasn't moving off. It was just getting louder and louder...
And in a bright flash of light, my puny little life ended. I don't remember if there was any pain or anything like that.
So now I'm dead. I can't tell you what comes after, because it apparently is different for everyone. But I can tell you I'm happy. The mysterious 'they' says, don't die with regrets.
For one, there is no way to know when you'll die, so dying without some petty regrets is almost impossible, let me tell you. You float around in your own personal after life thinking, 'Maybe I shouldn't have said that to him,' or 'I wish I had told mama I loved her one more time' little things like that.
But, looking back, other than those petty regrets I think I'm glad I lived the life I did. I didn't have many friends, and I didn't leave my small apartment much, but I was happy. Trying to force myself to be an extrovert would have made me, at the very least, uncomfortable.
So maybe 'they' aren't always right. I guess, though, like the after life it varies from person to person on whether it would benefit them to take 'their' advice. I for one am ultimately glad I didn't.
Constructive criticism is most welcome!