Death In The Morning

This morning I woke up to a feeling. To chatter and speculation. People asking ‘what happened?’ I did not know the victim, but I saw the body being carried away. I heard the screams from next door. My neighbour died and it wasn’t natural. The body was pulled out the shed while the dog barked and whimpered. People are talking about suicide. I would rather not talk, it’s none of my business. But here I am writing a blog post, because I don’t know what else to do. My family and our neighbours aren’t close (they don’t like us). I feel something has come over me. There’s silence I can’t hear anything. A strange feeling lingers in the air. I am not used to death. I have never lost anyone close. I feel a dark, morbid, sickly feeling. I felt this as soon as I woke up, before I saw anything.  

Then comes the rush of the nosy neighbours. My grandma talking about death and autopsy’s before the body was even brought out. My sister looking out the window at the police and detectives taking pictures inside the shed. Me, refusing to look, hoping that I could wake up. Hoping that everything and everyone would be ok. But knowing that life doesn’t work that way. Everyone seems willing to accept, that there was a mysterious death this morning. My mum (who is on holiday) even suggesting over the phone, that we head over and find out what happened. While I feel physically sick. Death is not exciting or entertaining no matter how much it’s televised. This is real life. This is next door, right now someone’s family will never be the same again. It makes my head hurt and my eyes water.         

RIP