“Once one gets the pain and becomes out of breath /One will realize the greatest pain is DEATH.”These are the last two lines of the very first poem I have written, but to be frank about it, I don’t believe even one word of it. I wrote this particular poem when I was in Grade 5. That was the point in my life when I really was afraid of dying and even the mere thought of death made my eyes teary. I asked people what they thought being dead was like, and the answer that really struck me was my father’s. When I asked him the question, he answered in a serious voice: “Well, I think death would be simple: You’re sleeping, but then you never wake up again.” His answer wasn’t much help. It made me cry even harder. I don’t really know if this was natural behavior, but I was absolutely terrified of death then. I cried over the death of my mother, my father, my siblings, my dog -- even before it actually happened. Absurd? But hey, I was in 5th grade. Surprisingly, when I entered high school, my views about death totally changed. This was the point in my life when I didn’t fear death at all. I could go on talking about death all day without flinching even once. I started reading articles and pocket books containing loss of life and murder. I watched bloody movies. And I even brainstormed about the best and worst ways to die! Mind you, it didn’t stop there. At that time, a powerful desire to make my thoughts and ideas come to reality was thriving inside of me. Wait! Don’t be scared. I didn’t want to kill people around me. Actually, I wanted to die. Don’t get me wrong. I led a very happy life back then (and until now). I had a great family, good friends, fair grades and achievements, a person whom I admire and who admires me back, necessary luxuries and, most importantly, good food. Perhaps you might be wondering, “Well if her life’s oh so happy, why think about dying at all?” The truth was that I felt unimportant and unfulfilled. You see, I had this issue about being a real nagger and pessimist. I could go on complaining for days about how my life was incomplete and how much I wanted this and that. I always found things that I wanted even though I had them already in my pockets. I supposed that if I had everything I needed back then, I still would have looked and asked for more. I supposed that if I died, everyone I knew would come to realize what a great loss I was. I often daydreamed that I was already dead and my soul was watching over my own funeral and people were crying over my dead body, their faces showing similar expressions -- of regret, sadness, hurt and affection. If I were a normal person then, this scenario would have brought me sorrow. But in fact I seemed to draw immense satisfaction from it. I believed that death would bring me attention and appreciation and make me feel important. One night as I was pondering over my usual morbid scenarios about death, a sudden thought struck me: After I died, after I got all the attention, appreciation and sense of importance I craved, what would become of me? I couldn’t expect other people to keep their attention and appreciation of me after the shock of my death had sunk in. I couldn’t expect them to cry over my death forever. They would eventually get on with their lives and put their memories of me in a small space at the back of their minds. So where would that take me? That question transformed my views on death and it made me if not a completely normal person, at least somebody close to it. Now I know that death is not the greatest way to gain attention and all that. For the attention and importance that death would bring me is but temporal, and would lead nowhere. Now I don’t believe that the greatest pain is dying itself because I have come to realize that the greatest pain is leaving all our families, belongings and memories behind as we close our eyes for the very last time, never to be opened again. I still believe in my dad. At the end of the day, death will not bring us the appreciation and happiness that we want. It is living our lives to the fullest that will. Sachiko S. Estreller, 14, is a senior at the University of Baguio Science High School. | 
