Mourning

Why does death hurt us so much? Why does it tear us up and leave us ragged?

I didn't even know their name until Ivory told me. Blair. I saw the sadness in her face as she told Blair's friends what had happened and the next minute one of the women - Alyssa, Ivory said her name was - just jumped on her. I pulled her off, but I know that feeling. The feeling of wanting, needing to hit something, anything at all, to transfer your pain to someone else.

The man - Ivory said his name was Curtis - he's just standing there, not speaking, not moving. I know that feeling, too. Not wanting to move at all, not even breathe. Not wanting to feel a thing. Comfortably numb, as the song goes.

It's not death that hurts us, I think. It's not the concept of dying, since everyone and everything does it. It's the emptiness that accompanies it. A lacuna, a void, where some song has been silenced and there's nothing left to fill the hole in our hearts.

I watched Alyssa until I knew she wasn't going to attack anyone else, then I slipped away and out the door and into the night.

I hadn't said the Kaddish in years, but there I started to say it. And then I stopped, because I saw something. Against the darkness, it was barely visible, but I could still see it's red eyes. I could hear its panting, so much like a real dog.

It silently gazed at me and then turned away and it was gone.

I said my prayer in silence.