Death Is Life

• Kate Ferraro, Grade 6, Carlingford West Public School
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'The Write Track 2015' competition

Death! The pain pierces my heart. I stare at the lifeless body, unable to retain one thought, as dozens attack my mind. My eyes blur, as tears flood my cheeks in helpless, heartbreaking sorrow. I suppress a moan, as my pet bird’s blue-feathered body swims before my eyes.

Suddenly, white-hot rage overwhelms my despair, then drains away, for in truth, there is no-one to blame but myself. Slowly, irresistibly, a black chasm of guilt opens beneath me, dragging me in. A choking sob wells up inside my throat, deep and painful, like a dagger piercing my chest. Yet, the source of the pain is different, something deep inside my heart. Something no-one can feel except from shared experience.

Soon, I feel movement around me as my family come to see what the commotion is about. Eventually, I am led away, condoling words attempting to soothe me, yet my heart-aching sorrow clouds my mind, rendering them useless. Even though I know my bird’s death is my fault, self-pity clashes against my guilt, tearing my heart to shreds. I cannot speak, in case honesty wins and I utter those guilt-laden words: it is I who was responsible for my bird’s death. I took the bird to the vet over some trivial thing. I, through my own stupidity, killed my beloved bird because she caught a fatal sickness at that place.

The chasm of guilt widens; the cracks, so close to the horizon, creep slowly forwards. And yet, I know that the cracks can never touch the edge. I can’t admit to my family that it was my fault, but neither can I wipe that dark stain of guilt from my mind.

Dimly, I hear my mother speak the words that I have been dreading.
It is time to bury my bird. No! Not my bird, I am not worthy for her to belong to me! I am not worthy to live! Yet my heart beats on, faster now, as though willing me not to succumb.

Thunk! The bird lands in the grave. No, it is my heart that made the sound. There it is again, quicker and quicker, like it’s trying to beat enough times to put life in both the bird and I. Then, a shower of dirt hides the sky-blue body. Some flowers are laid on top. And that’s all, no coffin inlaid with gold. No necklaces heavy with jewels. Just a pile of dirt and flowers. Hot, salty liquid pours from my eyes, silently coursing down my cheeks and onto the flowers. I stand there motionless, as though in prayer.

Then it is time to go. No one speaks, but we all drift away at the same time, leaving my lifeless bird behind. In my heart, I know I am leaving part of me behind too. Just like that, gone forever. And then my heart skips a beat as I realise that in my deepest memories, my bird lives on. Gradually, a lightness enters my steps and my heart.