I was young, in my mid twenties. I hadn't accomplished anything extraordinary. There was no legacy to remember me by.
Death has an interesting way of preserving our best qualities in memories.
My friends recall me in their dreams. I serve as a guide, an ally, a guardian, a lesson, a moral, a story. The memories my friends tell serve as a metaphor for life.
I like to watch my friends experience my memories. Maybe they realize I live vicariously through them.
I was a chemical engineer. My professors gave me an honorary degree as I wilted away my last semester.
My friends were never the same after I left them. Their sense of justice was diminished. They couldn't understand why the good died and the bad lived.
They wanted answers where there were none.
I was the oldest of my friends. I was there surrogate older brother. They looked to my good examples. Following in my footsteps was supposed to lead to a good life.
Then life was gone.
I appeared in a dream. He searched for his spirit animal, so I came to him as a wolf.
Gandalf was with me too. I always liked Lord of the Rings.
There is pain in his soul every day, and he cannot face it but in dreams. I try to carry him while he walks, and I manifest when his subconscious calls for me.
I died in my mother's house.
I missed living with my friends. They were my brothers. Life was normal, and cancer didn't exist.
We partied every night. They don't party anymore.
Recalled memories of me are a sad life story. Cancer was part of my identity.
I signed them up for college. They never got their diploma.
I lived with cancer for seven years before it won.
My life was not defined by cancer. I was not cancer.
I am the hand on their shoulder when the stress feels like too much.
I was me, and my life was normal.
In meditations I relax their soul. They are filled with memories, and their negativity drains away.
I lived as if I had more time like anyone else.
As my memory lives through experiences together, I walk alongside them.
I protect them, guide them, show them, help them.
I defy cancer.
I am preserved. I am a memory.
I defy death.
I am a Wolf.
This 2014 hybrid narrative piece was inspired by the format of the book "This is Not a Novel" by David Markson which kind of reads like a super condensed Wikipedia book about artists and mostly how they died with bits of metafiction thrown in. It was also inspired by a story told to me by a friend. This is probably the only piece I've ever wrote that didn't have any planning go into it; I just wrote.