Knowledge

Do I know what it's like to die? Of course I do.

I know what it is like to drown in the sea, with salt burning in my throat, feeling useless as I slowly lose the last thread of will that I once possessed and drift away from the sunlight.

I know what it is like to fall over a cliff, and feel the rush of wind and adrenaline, to revel in the sensation of flight before the incredible pain of crashing on the unyielding ground.

I know what it is like to have someone I trust stab me in the back literally as well as figuratively, and how the pain of the betrayal is as sharp as the pain of having every drop of blood flow steadily out of my body.

I know what it is like to be walking home alone at night, calm and happy, and to suddenly have a ton of steel crash into me, the speed of it only adding to the pain. To fall, and feel my body give way under the weight. To feel the wet crunching sensation as my collarbone and my kneecaps crack simultaneously. To feel the car stop, forcing the broken bones farther into my flesh, move forward again for a brief second of relief, before coming back and forcing the last wisp of life out of me.

I know what it is like to fall into black and softly lose awareness of myself, like falling asleep, and I know that you never expect it to be that gentle.

I know because I relive it. It does not matter how long I am asleep--five minutes, five hours--I remember the dead. If I dream of Gene, I may remember the happy times when we were children, but I can never force myself to wake up before he dies. I try not to sleep, because I hate it. I rarely have such violent visions, but when I do, they never leave. They haunt me, and I am never allowed to forget. I wake up burdened with it, and reach for the black clothes of mourning, wondering if those people still have families mourning them. It does not matter if they don't, because I always will. Every day, my grief is refreshed, grief for the pain they suffered and the pain I suffer still.

I know all about that final, fragile moment that is death, and I know, even as I hear Mai tell me about it, that she has no idea. She had merely died once. She understood the terror, yes, the awful vulnerability, but of the rest, she couldn't even begin to imagine. None of them could, not even Lin, because none of them felt it the way I did. They did not understand.

It was better that way.

I was just re-reading manga volume 7 when this came to me. The panel right after Mai asked shows Naru's eyes, and they are so cloudy, it made me wonder how he felt. The entire volume is incredible, the way Shiho Inada managed to convey Naru's emotions through his face. Also, I decided this was a good reason why Naru might not want to sleep and wears black all the time.