Like That Sparrow
By: Nothing of Everything
When I was five, my grandma passed away. I was too young to understand death, I just noticed she never called or came over. I couldn't get why mom and dad were so upset. I once asked mom about it, I remember her pulling me into her lap and trying to explain to me. She asked if I understood now, but I shook my head. She sighed and said: "Grandma's sleeping, but she won't wake up. She can't eat or drink or move. Her soul is in a better place now, but her body is motionless, stuck here on Earth with the rest of us mortals." I still couldn't quite comprehend what she meant, but something, I did know.
"She's like that sparrow, mommy, right? The one I found behind the house, that wouldn't move?"
"Yes, honey, that's right."
I still couldn't really understand why everyone were so sad and seemingly scared, but I didn't think grandma would suddenly come back anymore. Not even now is death something I am afraid of. I accept it. It is the one thing that is stronger than life and love, it will always win. It takes its victims; some earlier than others, removes them, and takes care of their souls.
Death is a beautiful thing, the thought of drifting in time and space, unknowing, oblivious to everything; it has a kind of tarnished beauty. People are afraid of it, for reasons that will always be beyond me. They've painted it as something bad, an evil thing that rips us screaming from our flesh. But I have always seen it as the final rest after a long life of work, the adventure we should all experience.
I wonder what people will remember me as. A friend, sister, daughter? Not likely. A bitch, emotionless and cruel? Probably. Or perhaps, they will remember me like that sparrow. Not caring for my fate, yet not hating me. Perhaps. I have always thought that disappearing into nothingness had a romantic tint to it, I still do. I have always known I would die some day, but never this soon. Death takes its victims; it is my turn to play that part.
A/N: I found this on my computer, I wrote it ages ago, when I'd finished Breaking Dawn. Somehow, it seems unfamiliar to me, as if I didn't write it myself, but I like it anyway. Please review!