Occasionally I Contemplate Murder 4The complete book onlinewonder what it's like to be murdered. Well, I'm not overly familiar with any kind of dying — neither when inflicted by the will of a fellow human being, nor the dying by what is called natural causes. Certainly, it's all intriguing. Murder in particular — how does it feel to be its victim?
The so called natural means of departure are quite self-explanatory. Mostly one is well, although probably never enough, prepared for them. In an accident, death may certainly be as sudden and surprising, as a truck blocking the way immediately behind a turn of the road. Either you have time to perceive what obstacle you run into, in which case no further questions need answering — or you don't, in which case there's no question at all. Any which way, a mystery it's not.
I may find in my mind the explanation to what is done to me. Or they may be outspokenly given to me by my bane — something, by the way, I doubt that any murderer would supply, unless he thereby attempts to gain the determination needed to complete his deed. If that's the case, I'm convinced he will not succeed. However, no matter how the murder is explained to me, still my mental ordeal isn't over. Not nearly.
And what, oh what, kind of life will this deed prepare for my assassin? Will the murder really work to his advantage, even in the long run?
Or would I become like a saint, and think first to forgive my murderer, like the heroes of both long gone and modern day legends always do? Methinks — as long as it does not cancel his reservation in one or other hell — I'll be glad to forgive.
Had the king been convinced that his subjects would obey this, his last command — would he still have made it? I wonder.
Yet, it's not, I believe, a very agreeable state of mind to be in, at the moment of leaving one's mortal coil: Frustration, and maybe bitter thoughts of vengeance. Perhaps there are no ghosts at all. But if there are, I can think of no better melting pot for them, than people being the fatal victims of worldly plots of their fellow men. If there is such a thing as a soul, how can it possibly turn away from an event this traumatic, to enter the tranquility of the hereafter?
Is it possible for the victim of a murder to come to peace with it, gracefully succumb to the laws of biology, and leave? If he cannot — what kind of death will that be? One should be prepared for death, in whatever shape it appears.
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