Work Text:
Is this what death felt like?
Cold and hollow; you are as human as you were alive, yet you feel numb and forgotten. All your limbs are still intact, but feel like a burden to use. Is this what death feels like?
Mark thought as he walked aimlessly along the streets. People around him didn't spare a glance and walked with the sun gleaming on them, while the rays seemed to pass right through him. The world around appeared to have more color than when he was alive, while every time he brought his hands up to his eyes, they looked sunken and grey. He didn't expect this to be death. What happened to the scorching crimson gates of hell that he feared as a child, engraved deep in his mind? What happened to the flowery pastels of heaven? the ones he prayed and performed for, thinking it would always be his end.
Existing among other humans, walking and stumbling beside them, yet being deprived of the one thing they all have: a life. Mark can't help but scoff at himself, thinking how this is more vicious. Was this his way of making up for all the wrongs he had done? Or was this all there is to death?. He didn't know.
He stood now in front of a tombstone, violet hyacinths delicately laid atop the grave. He didn't think it was possible, but it felt like his silent heart sank into his stomach as he stared at the name engraved on the stone:
Mark Tuan.
This is death, he thinks— no, this is life. Death isnt the ending of life, it's a part of it because even at death, you have to live. You either live the life you didn't care for, or sit with death that you weren't afraid of.
