Little Talk

Let's be honest, though. We can be honest now, can we?

I know you want to know what death is like. I bet death and murder are all you think about. There can't be room for much more in that dysfunctional head of yours.

You are curious. As for me, I learnt the hard way. Your curiosity killed me enough times.

I have all the answers, you know. No need to wriggle in doubt like your disgusting kind usually does. You think you are so special, right? You must want to find out before your final day comes. Where would all the fun go otherwise?

Well, guess what. There is nothing special about the way you die. Time passes. Later, probably sooner. Then it just happens. Your blood flows and dries like anyone else's. Or it happens with poisoning, or infection. It doesn't matter – it always starts from that revolting mush in your veins. Your bones thud to the ground, and you grow cold. That's all there is to it, really.

You can look at it however you like. It won't get any better – for you, of course. The endings are all the same. You will roam the world, like the little monster you are, and walk as far as you can get. That is what you wanted, remember?

Good luck getting fatter out there, by the way. Oh, no worries. Even if you don't, rest assured your weight will not vary. That is the body you were born with, after all. Maybe I just found one more reason to agree with your parents. I'd abandon such an ugly monster, too. So there's that.

But I digress. We were talking about how you will die. I would hope for that to happen soon, if I hadn't already washed my hands of the problem. I won't bother thinking of it again.

Who knows. Maybe the problem does not even exist anymore. Maybe you are up there, staring at my shack with dead eyes. Gross. Sad.

Still, you seemed to love experimenting around my death. You tried to kill me in quite resourceful ways, I'll give you that. More than once, too. You obsessive lunatic. But that's the funniest thing about it, really.

How will I die, you must be dying to know? Ha ha. You should know better. I won't. I assumed you wouldn't be stupid enough to wonder – provided that you have enough brain power left to do it.

You can play a fun game, if you ever get bored out there. Which should happen easily, considering useless humans like you get bored so quickly. You could count the years in which I am going to be alive, and you aren't. Wouldn't that be a great pastime?

Surprise! There is no end to that game. No matter how far you get, I will still be there.

You know what?

All things considered, that's probably the worst part.