The day death came, I didn’t expect the pain. Not the blood gushing from my temple, not my chest plate piercing my lung, not the bone in my knee ripping through my flesh. No, not that sort of pain. It was the pain of thinking of my mom, her making dinner, just waiting to see my excitement when I see that it’s my favorite dish. The pain of knowing that she was saying that joke her coworker told her over and over again, getting ready to tell it to me and anticipating my reaction. It was the pain of knowing I would never hug my mom again, tell her I love her, tell her I’m sorry for every time we ever argued.

The day death came, I didn’t expect the shock. Not the shock of the car plummeting towards me, not the shock of my boyfriend’s hand hitting my window, no longer attached to his arm. No, it was the shock of how little everything else now mattered. That geometry homework I was freaking out over? That means nothing now. The girl who told me I was ugly in 7th grade? Her relevancy is incomparable. Being late to work tomorrow? I’m not going to even see tomorrow.

The day death came, I couldn’t comprehend the reality. Not the reality of a portion of the flesh on my face falling into my lap. Not the reality that I could feel myself inhaling for the last time. No, not the reality of death at all. It was the reality that the bottle in the hand of the man who is currently killing me wasn’t his first round. The reality that he could have stopped himself. The reality that I could be singing to the song on the radio right now, living my normal happy life. The reality that I’m never even going to get to the park we’re driving to. The reality that if I had just put on that stupid seatbelt, I wouldn’t be crashing through the window right now. The reality that this is the very last time I will ever see my boyfriend, with glass in his eye and his body mangled beyond imagination. The reality of our mistake.

The day death came, I didn’t think I would die.
The day death came, I didn’t expect to die.
The day death came, I never should have died.