If I die, know that I died on my own terms. Despite the fact that it was not preconceived, remember that I was prepared for it and embraced it for I knew that this very day would come. The waves and tides were all in tandem and seemed to corroborate their activities in line with my demise. The trees swayed at much greater angles. They had a certain swagger in their swing as if they knew that
there was more organic manure that would feed the soil they grew on. The moon hid it’s face within the great dark clouds as if afraid to bear witness to my brutal death. The breeze from the sea was chilly, as if to warn that winter was coming. Winter was coming to chill my lifeless bones after all.
If I die, know that I received love and offered it to others tenfold as much as I received. I made sure that my neighbour had a contented smile on his face before I sat down to have my meal. I offered comfort and solace to my friends who came to me in tears having gone through heartache and heartbreak. I put my family first and thought well of them even though they made me regret having been a part of them on several occasions. I always did anything that I could to mend relationships that were once severed. I always signed in and covered for my colleague at work who always got to work late since he had to drop his kid at school. I always dealt diligently with everything and everyone around me. I made sure to advocate for peace, love, honesty, patience and harmony among brethren. And if I did not do all that, then I promise, I did try to.
If I die, do not forget to place a picture of my face just before I died on my casket during body viewing. Let it not be more than a week old. It will remind you of how everything that occurred led up to this day of gory gloom. The way I looked and dressed. Was my hair combed or not? Did I apply body oil or not? Were there any silver hair strands growing on my beard or not? Was I constantly silent and brooding at the rooftop. Overlooking the suburbs of Nairobi. The cold sturdy breeze fanning my face. Thinking about the splatter of my brain and bone upon the concrete ground floor. How would it feel to finally be free? Free of fear. Free of spite. Free of care and affection. Free of stress and the need for perfection. In that void of a realm, maybe I shall find the ideal I have always seeked.
If I die then let them narrate the event of my last few breaths to you. Make them reminisce of the times I seeked attention but failed to recieve it. The times I fought to stay sane and happy but it proved to be a mean feat due to the environment I was around. The times a girl broke my heart and made me bitter to the point of loathing of all that is female. The times I hit the jackpot on some endeavour I delved into and came home smiling and carrying a new pair of shoes. The times I wanted to write a book but I could not since my computer would not work and I’d get mad and frustrated: simply abandoning the initial task I had planned to undertake. Let them tell you of how I was angry and still fighting to voice my thoughts and opinions; right before my head was severed from my body by Katana.
If I die, then they shall forever remember my last words to them. The expression on my then lifeless visage. The permanent smile, marked with a tinge of sacarsm and defiance, saying: It is done, I won. Raising the middle finger to the cold heartless world. I am finally rid of your contemptuous pungent stink. Free to roam the ends of the galaxies.
BUT, before then; I shall, I must, I will fight to make this a better place so when I leave, you will forever remember my name.
By: AK. Stine