The time was 8:15. I awoke on a ordinary day with the usual ho's and hum's. The sky was clear, the birds were chirping, and the temperature was warm. Nothing was out of place as I stood up and freshened up before going to the kitchen to make breakfast. I turned the knob of the stove when I heard a nondescript click; and then the stove exploded. The explosion threw me several feet into the air along with the bits of my house. I thought that I was dead as I approached the heavens and then gravity took over and I hurtled towards the ground and I landed with a thud. I was engulfed in the darkness and, then, I opened my eyes and realized that I am still alive. I scrutinized my body and realized that I survived the explosion and the fall unscathed albeit I am covered in soot and grime, my clothes are in tatters, and smoke is emanating from my body. The song of the birds was replaced with the incessant sirens of fire trucks and ambulances as they approached the site where my house once stood. Filled with shock, I just remained at my spot without moving a muscle and waited for the medics to carry me towards the ambulance and cure my non-existing injuries as they bring me to the hospital. The time was 8:30.
I arrived at the hospital feigning unconsciousness and the paramedics still unbelieving that I am unscathed and still trying to treat my fictional injuries. They rushed me to a room and connected me to unnecessary contraptions. They left me and I stayed there while waiting for something to happen. Just then, the doctor arrived and told me bluntly:
"Okay. Let us cut the charade and talk straight. I know that you are not on the brink of dying. Hell, you are not even dead. I know that you live after suffering from the explosion and I do not know why. The only thing that I know is that you are not the first one that I have seen today that did not suffer from an event that is supposed to be fatal. So please sit down and talk to me."
I sat the down as the words were just leaving his mouth. I looked at him with surprise and asked:
"I am not the first one?"
He answered: "No, you are not. There are plenty of you. People from gruesome car crashes that survived, people who attempted suicide by jumping from high buildings and walking away unscathed and soldiers who never suffered a scratch as bullets pierced their uniforms. Even as we speak, the passengers of a plane that crashed are being brought here to be examined even though we know that they are all unharmed."
"What is happening?"I asked.
"I do not know, sir, but it is as if Death has taken a vacation." The doctor answered.
With those words, I realized that he might be right. Death is now gone and went to nobody knows where and it seems that he has no intention of coming back yet. While I was contemplating the recent events, the doctor broke my reverie when, in one fluid and fearless motion, he grabbed the scalpel and thrust it towards his own neck and he said in a stern town: "Aha! I am correct. Death is really on vacation." And that was it.
Days passed and the situation never changed. In fact, the situation grew worse. The people of the world, knowing that they could not die from anything, descended into chaos. People started to do daredevil acts. They jumped off high buildings, cliffs, and even airplanes. They started war games where the guns were loaded with live rounds. They started car races where the speed is unbelievable and the crashes are real. The world turned into a daredevil's dream. Many places in the world experienced a sudden boom of tourism. The PETRONAS Towers and the Eiffel Tower became a favorite spot of jump enthusiasts; the deadly waters of Australia are filled with daredevil surfers; the windy and traffic-ridden streets of Hong Kong are a favorite of race car drivers. The possibilities are endless as Mr. Death takes a vacation.
During the first four weeks of Mr. Death’s vacation, the President survived numerous assassination attempts. He made speeches as bullets are rained upon him. His limousines and hotel suites are always being bombed and he treats this with admirable nonchalance. His security detail now walks by his side idly as they are now rendered useless. The military is even more useless as they are now fighting a mock war with each other, using current military technology, just to satisfy the entertainment needs of their respective presidents and their people.
And as the weeks turned into months, the world descended into fanciful and comedic chaos. The people looted the stores, burned buildings, and destroyed homes. I observe the outside world from inside my hotel room that is already ridden with bullets from the guns of the people outside. Some bullets even hit me but with no effect, of course. The world seemed so overjoyed about Mr. Death's absence and that they would not mind that they would not die. Of course that is what they think because they are young. However, what about of those old people who live at nursing homes that are almost as old as the earth itself? What about them? Day after day, they wish that they be dead but the wish grows unheeded. Day after day, they try to hang themselves, cut their wrist, or put a bullet through their brain but, whatever they do, they just won't die. That is the curse that they must endure every day. The curse that started when Mr. Death took a vacation.
As for me, I was content at being an observer of the events. Day in and day out, I look outside the window and I see the throng of people bathed in the sea of chaos. Their freedom is so exhilarating that, one day, I envied them. And so I grabbed my gun that I keep for protection and I went outside. I scanned the scene and I saw an innocent child playing with her dolls. I raised my gun, with hands trembling, and aimed it at her head. It was then that she looked at me with her innocent eyes and smiled; then, I pulled the trigger. It was then that at that moment as the bullet was flying through the air, unknown to me, a man faraway, who was on vacation, picked up his scythe and resumed his duties.
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