Death.

I never liked to talk about death. In fact, I never like to talk about death. Its not a taboo for me, its just something very unpleasant to talk about.

Death. Its so very unpleasant to talk about that people come up with all sort of terms and phrases to avoid saying the word death. Went six feet under, kicked the bucket, met his creator, passed on, passed away, whatever. We say almost everything else but, die.

Death is something very common. People die everyday, thousands and thousands die in natural disasters, theres a funeral once every few weeks at the pavilion near my house. But to see someone or something die, thats not very common. And to have been able to do something to prevent it from dying, thats very rare.

Yet, it happened to me. And now, I don't know how to describe my emotions. Sad? Guilty? Maybe a mix of both? I don't know. All I know is, every time I close my eyes, that very scene just keeps on replaying itself like a spoilt disc in a DVD player. Its haunting me.

The cat was peering down from the ledge of the staircase railing, looking for its mother. And there I was trying to coax it down with some ikan bilis. If I had known, IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN, I would have went over and pulled it off the ledge. But I did not know, and I was too much of a coward, afraid that it might just jump off when I get too close. The kitten did not jump off. It just dropped off.

I can still hear its claws, frantically trying to grab at anything to hang on to, but it was too late. I could only pray, that an angel, maybe a cat angel would just fly over and pick it up in mid air. But that didn't happen. "Thud." I can still hear it in my head.

IF ONLY I HAD WENT OVER AND GRAB IT. If only if only. If only time could go in the reverse direction. If only so many so many different things.

Dropping from 8 storeys high. I cannot imagine. I quickly took the lift down. The kitten did not die. It just sat there, with its mother by its side. I knew its mother. I had only fed the mother a few hours back.

As I approached, the kitten limped away with its mother. I can still remember its face. The cute face, even after falling from 8 storeys high. "God, please keep this little fella alive."

That was the last time I saw the kitten alive. The next morning as I went to work, I spotted the corpse in the distance. Lying motionless on the floor. My heart broke to a million, billion pieces. I could not even bring myself to see it. And as I walked on, its mother approached me. "Meow." I patted its head. "I'm so so very very sorry."

I do not like to post sad posts. But I can't post happy posts considering how sad I am now. Telling myself not to think about it did not help. You can don't think about something, but that something can still stay in you. And when you stop thinking about anything else, you will find it right where you left it.

And thats how it is with me now. Scenes just keep on replaying itself. The face, the mewing, scurrying of claws on ledge, the thud, the fact that I could have done something other than trying to offer ikan bilis.

If only I had known. If only I had done something. If only it didn't come up to the 8th storey. If only I wasn't there. If only a hundred million things. If only I wasn't such a coward.

When I came back from work in the afternoon, the body was gone, probably swept away by the indian uncle who keeps my estate clean. However, everything else still remains in my mind. Haunting me. Accusing me. Murderer. A cowardly murderer.