You're convinced you're going to wake up at any time and shake it off, because that's all it was--a bad dream. But as the days go by, you start to wonder what the number of the truck was that put you in this coma, this virtual reality hell because a person can't just be there one minute and gone the next.
It just can't happen that fast.
But in dreams, the blink of an eye is more time than it seems. So it seems they were gone not in a blink, but a day. Or a month. Or a semester. All those times you didn't talk to them. All those times you didn't pay attention. All those times you took if for granted they would be back the next day.
That's where they died slowly, over a period of short attention spans and preconceptions. In your heart they never were really alive in the first place. In your brain they were part of the scenery, no more alive than the desks you sat in or the whiteboards you stared at. The things you expect to be there the next day without question, because that's the way it's always been, and why would things change? Especially so suddenly.
A desk wears out after years of use. A whiteboard, while rarely replaced, needs new markers or cleaning fluid every now and then. Gradual decrease of quality and being that lets the observer know it will be gone soon.
But not this. Not this blink of an eye dream timeline which jars the psyche, as though you were riding a train, the driver slammed on the brakes, and the first thing you saw was a dead tree.
Death, staring you in the face. And there's nothing you can do about it. Nothing except wait for the train to start moving again, and even though that tree isn't in your face anymore, you remember it. You remember death, but cannot comprehend it. The state of being. Or rather, not being. All you can comprehend is that it doesn't feel right.It's not right that everything you've been told you can accomplish has been taken away from a fellow dreamer.
Now they'll dream eternally. But it's still not right. It's not fair. And then you begin to realize that maybe there isn't always good in the world.
Maybe the universe isn't fair. All those times you believed that life would sort itself out or that "everything would be alright" were just delusions because things do happen that aren't fair. People are taken before what we believe their "time" is.
And society cries, and mourns, and asks why God would do this, or how this could happen, but the truth is that there is no truth. Not for that question, anyway. Life is just a collection of random events that don't happen in any particular order, hence their random nature.
So you should no more question a death than a birth, or a graduation, or a broken limb. What people can't comprehend is the lack of order that exists all around them. Most people like to believe there's some path, some predestined trail they're destined to tread, and everything that happens is already in that plan. But when something unexpected happens, still people question: Why?
Some try and explain that it's just part of that plan, you know, the one you had so much faith in when you got that raise, or a 100 on your latest test? Where's your ironclad never wavering faith in your plan now? Why are you still questioning when you knew that there was some bad mixed in with the good?
And so death can't be accepted, because the human psyche won't let it be. Nothing bad could ever happen, because good is intrinsic in the universe, right?