La Mort

I. La Mort

It exists.

I know it is real.

I see it.

The red soaks into my hand through my coat. I should feel the pain. I know it is somewhere–but it’s an invisible pain. The elevator door opens and they walk past. Do they walk past? Have I changed positions? They do walk past.

But I am dying! What chance that I had not pierced my own entrails a second earlier. How would the crowds have changed? That man there. I would not see him. I would have seen someone who already passed. Would that person have noticed? Why do they walk so impassively! Hello there! I am dying! Please look at me. Just see me. I did not do this to be ignored.

Perhaps it is not real. Perhaps they cannot see me. Perhaps I already don’t exist.

Or maybe none of them exist, and I have never been seen. Please, blade, work fast–stop these thoughts. I cannot know I have never been seen.

Ah yes, the crowds gather.  Come, crowds.  Witness me quickly.

II. L’obscurité

Look at how the masses gawk! Give her space! I can do nothing to help her in this situation but pass. And let her do the same in peace. No frantic screams for help. See how silent she is. How her eyes beg for still. And they gather and gather. Ah, if tragedy were more apparently rampant! How they would not know what to do with themselves other than stare! I would remain anonymous now even if I did not wish to do so, with such a scene unfolding.

Pardon.”

Ah, the wide-eyed recipient of my horrific slur! What appalled looks are jetted in my direction! Yes thank you, I am aware of the dying girl. Must I push through? Maintain composure, everyone–it is as it is. I simply wish to pass. No, this is not indecent of me.  Although, your gaping could be considered so.

III. Le Lien

Who is that shadow coming toward me? Who is this man who walks with his head down? How obscure his face is with his head down! Look at me, man! Why do you not stare?  Why do you act as though I don’t exist? I am dying! I am here! You will all remember my death! Why do you walk past! How dare you walk past!

Poor girl. To die with an audience. I am sorry.

Your face is hidden! Why is this so! I see you! I see you coming closer! You are so close to me now and yet you ignore me! You are invisible to everyone! I will never be like you–I will never remain in the shadows as you do!

“LOOK AT ME!”

Her lips move. What does she mumble in her last breath? How strange she looks collapsed in the corner of the elevator. How obscure.