The death of vanity by Anu Tonic

“*F**k! The airbags didn’t work!!”

These were the last words she remembered thinking to herself. Beyond which, all her memories were unleashed onto her simultaneously, non-linearly, without consideration. It was like a dam had broken and a city was flooded. All sense of separation was dissolved into one by a bitter cold agent that permeated everything without remorse. She knew she was dying.

She had lived long enough, but she was too young to die. But death doesn’t care. It had come to claim her. The view from the outside was not pretty, so we will not discuss it. But inside her head was her last attempt to make sense of her life, before it was all over. Time... was running out.

As far as she could recall, she was never at peace. It was all that she ever wanted, but never had any. And now, she was dying. As her life slipped away, like sand between fingers, she decided to search for peace before her last breath was over. This was going to be her last battle, and a victory or a defeat here would be irrevocable. There was a finality about this quest, and she was ready for it.

By now the initial shock was beginning to feel familiar. The excess of information was still overwhelming, but she was holding onto a center from which she would study everything. “Hang in there,” she said to herself, “just a little longer.” And as she held onto it, her life lay before her, scattered as a deck of cards, each telling its own story.

“Ah, the happiest day of my life.” she thought as she looked at her wedding day. It was a glorious day indeed and she remembered it vividly. She looked beautiful, everyone agreed. But even on that day there was no peace. Her happiness was an anxious kind, almost unbelievable, as if it was not meant to last. And the years that followed proved it.

“Why didn’t my marriage work?” she thought to herself, realizing time was at a premium and hoping to find a clue in that answer. “He was everything I wanted. Is it because I was looking for happiness without first finding peace?” She was astonished at how effortlessly she asked that question. She had spent a whole life evading it, but now, she was making progress. She could see that her discontent with herself didn’t let any relationship work. With time against her, the pattern was unmistakable. With no one left to blame, she saw her failures for what they truly were ― a self-sabotage.

The realization hurt her but the hurt was irrelevant. “Truth is all that matters. Truth will bring me peace. Why have I been discontent with myself for so long?” The investigation was making progress.

She sifted through the memories of her youth. The time that would form the basis of her life. It was a good time. There was a lot of sex, drugs and hanging out with the cool kids. She was beautiful, and everyone knew it. Everyone wanted to be around her. She got invited to all the parties. Men of all ages courted her. It was a joyful time. But joy wasn’t peace either. She recognized that she lived her youth like a dance, led by one partner until cut by another. There were no moments of stillness. In the excitement and attention, she never took the time to find herself, to get to know herself better. And as she grew more distant within, her inner turmoil became more unsettling. So, she began to travel the world. But all her journeys were alcohol, parties and gossips, just different places with different faces. They weren’t self-discovery, and so she grew up to be a stranger to her own self. And living with a stranger was the source of all her discontent, the enemy of her peace.

This realization didn’t come to her as a surprise. It was like she always knew it. Something that she avoided confronting, pushing it until tomorrow. But now there was no tomorrow. Everything had to be reconciled... today... now!

Death is a difficult experience, and it was beginning to take its toll on her. The lights were dimming, her thoughts were becoming less coherent, the memories were fading. But she squeezed the last bit of juice from her spirit and jolted herself into the final steps to discover the key to her peace. She knew somewhere in those memories there was a time, way, way, way before everything else, when she knew peace. If she could reach it, she will have it.

“Where... did... I... last... have... it?” she struggled to hold her thoughts. Her memories were now spiraling out of control. She was grasping for fragments of her past, like a drowning man would for floating straws. The effort was turning out to be futile. But giving up was no option. And as if fate had witnessed her courage, it decided to reward her. Unexpectedly, she stumbled across the memory that would hold the key.

It was a time when she was quite young. Perhaps no more than nine or ten years old. She had always known mirrors, but today was the day she fell in love with one. Until that day, she met others without the knowledge of her reflection. But that was all about to change. Every interaction that followed was weighed against vanity. She realized her beauty got her things. It was worth something to other people. She knew she had to learn to use it. And use it, she did. But that was the last day she remembered peace. That was the day her focus shifted from getting to know herself, to getting to show herself. And the rest is history.

Everything suddenly became still. She had understood her entire life in the last moments of it, as if a puzzle had come together. There was a serenity in the answers she had found. She was proud of her effort. She had won her last battle. And now she could rest...

...in peace.