I Think About Death
You would know instantly if she was in the room, the sound of her laughter would echo through your heart, rushing a gleaming , instant happiness into your mood. Her glowing, crystal green eyes were sweet, and beamed the heavy light of her soul. She walked around with her inner beauty grazing the school grounds, flooding her kindness into each of us, even when she didn't intend.
Mia was the 17 year old girl every teenager tries to be. She was naturally beautiful, inside and out, that golden tan skin with the perfect yet imperfect freckles, the luscious and deep chocolate brown hair that covered her head, that permanent smile she held on her face 24/7....she was a gorgeous girl with a stunning figure, yet still an equally perfect personality, she drove not only the males in my school crazy, but also every girl, parent and teacher.
She was a girl of many talents, dancing, singing, creativity.... there was nothing she couldn't do, whether it was to be the highest achieving student in school, create a campaign for suffering african children or be the most popular student for 6 years in a row... Mia did it all.. perfectly.
O fcourse with such perfection along comes the negatives you'd naturally be faced with.. the main one being jealousy, which if you were ever a teenage girl you'd understand how common it is. Now i wasn't a popular girl in high school, not one bit, in fact, i was the quirky and weird girl, nothing like Mia and all her friends. Poor Mia, who i was sure by this stage in my life would go down in history as a saint, suffered constantly with her friend. I mean "friends". They were the typical popular bitches that you'd be more familiar with, Mia was the only popular girl i knew who wasnt one of "those" girls, despite her hanging out with them.
Now, i know i was nothing like these girls in highschool, but i was the closest to Mia because she was my first cousin. Born 1 month apart, we grew up in each others arms. We did hang out with different people in school but it never bothered me. Our school was really big, so it kinda gave us some space away from each other. This doesnt mean we didnt talk in class or wave t eachother. I remember when we started high school we were so different that no one believed she was my cousin at first. (alot of people were actually jeleous... OF ME?? That was the first..)
Obviously i wanted to be like Mia (dont judge me, you would too if you had ever met her) it wasnt jeleousy though (although maybe sometimes...) It was more like and idolising thing.
ANYWAY... TO THE POINT....
Mia was killed in a tragic accident at the age of 19, right after high school graduation. it caught us all of guard. Every dream, every goal, every moment of happiness she ever had was all buried in the ground with her. She had moved interstate 2 years prior, so we had drifted, although it still effected me deeply. It made me wonder about life.. it changed the way i looked at life. Being a newly graduate running free into the big, wide and scary world, my mind was a sponge, just like it was when i was an infant, so a tragic event like this has greater impact on me then what it would have had at an older age.
This is going to sound crazy, but i found one of the hardest things when dealing with my grief was looking into that wardrobe of hers. That wardrobe.. that bloody wardrobe... who would have known that a closet can break your world more than anything in existence? Death teaches us the best and worst things that life has to offer. It also shows us how 1 object, thing or experience can have one thousand different perspectives, live the wardrobe.
i Used to drool over that wardrobe. Being a fashionista, naturally, it was the thing i envied most about Mia. It was almost like angels would sing as i opened the doors and a light from heaven would beam down along the clothing as white doves flew out. But after we buried my cousin there was no more light, those angels were no where to be heard, and those doves were just imaginary. It was dull closest and smelt of dust and even worse-my cousins beautiful scent of spring cherry blossoms perfume and coconut shampoo.
Her clothes and shoes all layed in that closet, still and unwarn, they were lifeless, as if only humans could activate them when they are dressed in them. In the end, they are just made of fabric? Anyone can put it on... anyone can wear it, right? But how can this useless object have so much meaning...how can it cause so much pain? within milliseconds of opening those wardrobe doors i could instantly understand the reason why her parents had locked it for all these months. it was as if i was looking at her, all scattered. I never knew how an individuals life could fit into this tiny closet, I never knew how much clothing defined people (maybe not who they are...but as to how me remember them)
Now when i grieve i dont think about Mia, i think about her wardrobe, and to this day i dont know why. It was like seeing a person without a soul, or someones world without their life. Maybe im too sentimental....
Death is more than what it seems, life is less than what it seems. In an instant, everything youve ever known, worked for or loved could be completely irrelevant. Even the clothing you wore.
Mia was the 17 year old girl every teenager tries to be. She was naturally beautiful, inside and out, that golden tan skin with the perfect yet imperfect freckles, the luscious and deep chocolate brown hair that covered her head, that permanent smile she held on her face 24/7....she was a gorgeous girl with a stunning figure, yet still an equally perfect personality, she drove not only the males in my school crazy, but also every girl, parent and teacher.
She was a girl of many talents, dancing, singing, creativity.... there was nothing she couldn't do, whether it was to be the highest achieving student in school, create a campaign for suffering african children or be the most popular student for 6 years in a row... Mia did it all.. perfectly.
O fcourse with such perfection along comes the negatives you'd naturally be faced with.. the main one being jealousy, which if you were ever a teenage girl you'd understand how common it is. Now i wasn't a popular girl in high school, not one bit, in fact, i was the quirky and weird girl, nothing like Mia and all her friends. Poor Mia, who i was sure by this stage in my life would go down in history as a saint, suffered constantly with her friend. I mean "friends". They were the typical popular bitches that you'd be more familiar with, Mia was the only popular girl i knew who wasnt one of "those" girls, despite her hanging out with them.
Now, i know i was nothing like these girls in highschool, but i was the closest to Mia because she was my first cousin. Born 1 month apart, we grew up in each others arms. We did hang out with different people in school but it never bothered me. Our school was really big, so it kinda gave us some space away from each other. This doesnt mean we didnt talk in class or wave t eachother. I remember when we started high school we were so different that no one believed she was my cousin at first. (alot of people were actually jeleous... OF ME?? That was the first..)
Obviously i wanted to be like Mia (dont judge me, you would too if you had ever met her) it wasnt jeleousy though (although maybe sometimes...) It was more like and idolising thing.
ANYWAY... TO THE POINT....
Mia was killed in a tragic accident at the age of 19, right after high school graduation. it caught us all of guard. Every dream, every goal, every moment of happiness she ever had was all buried in the ground with her. She had moved interstate 2 years prior, so we had drifted, although it still effected me deeply. It made me wonder about life.. it changed the way i looked at life. Being a newly graduate running free into the big, wide and scary world, my mind was a sponge, just like it was when i was an infant, so a tragic event like this has greater impact on me then what it would have had at an older age.
This is going to sound crazy, but i found one of the hardest things when dealing with my grief was looking into that wardrobe of hers. That wardrobe.. that bloody wardrobe... who would have known that a closet can break your world more than anything in existence? Death teaches us the best and worst things that life has to offer. It also shows us how 1 object, thing or experience can have one thousand different perspectives, live the wardrobe.
i Used to drool over that wardrobe. Being a fashionista, naturally, it was the thing i envied most about Mia. It was almost like angels would sing as i opened the doors and a light from heaven would beam down along the clothing as white doves flew out. But after we buried my cousin there was no more light, those angels were no where to be heard, and those doves were just imaginary. It was dull closest and smelt of dust and even worse-my cousins beautiful scent of spring cherry blossoms perfume and coconut shampoo.
Her clothes and shoes all layed in that closet, still and unwarn, they were lifeless, as if only humans could activate them when they are dressed in them. In the end, they are just made of fabric? Anyone can put it on... anyone can wear it, right? But how can this useless object have so much meaning...how can it cause so much pain? within milliseconds of opening those wardrobe doors i could instantly understand the reason why her parents had locked it for all these months. it was as if i was looking at her, all scattered. I never knew how an individuals life could fit into this tiny closet, I never knew how much clothing defined people (maybe not who they are...but as to how me remember them)
Now when i grieve i dont think about Mia, i think about her wardrobe, and to this day i dont know why. It was like seeing a person without a soul, or someones world without their life. Maybe im too sentimental....
Death is more than what it seems, life is less than what it seems. In an instant, everything youve ever known, worked for or loved could be completely irrelevant. Even the clothing you wore.
22-25, F
