[ 1 ]

At some point in everyone's life, there comes a realization that they will die. Some can

find solace in religion, with the prospect of life after death, while others can accept their fate and

move on. However, some can never come to terms with the fleeting nature of their existence.

Allen Strauss was one such person.

Allen was born and grew up on a small farm in north western Connecticut, disconnected

from the world for most of his childhood. The land was fertile, his family was well-to-do, never

hurting for money; if Allen wanted something, he asked for it and he usually got it. He lived a life

of ease, an ideal life that would make many angry with jealousy. However, despite the lack of

hardship in his life, or perhaps because of it, he was a very unhappy child.

For as long as he could remember, Allen had an intense fear of death. For the most part,

he would live as any other child, but during the time he was alone and unoccupied, the fear

would strike him, powerful and oppressive. He would imagine his body slowly becoming more

and more broken as time went on, eventually leading to death and infinite nothingness, and it

was when he tried to comprehend the idea of uniform blackness - no, not even blackness,

blankness, because he would not be able to perceive black - that he felt a surge of fear that took

over his entire body and mind. Sometimes he would go into a frenzy of desperate yelling, feeling

his body full of adrenaline and primal fear, while other times he would sob into the night, spasms

of pure terror rolling over his crumpled body. At first, his parents were concerned for his bouts

of sorrow and fear, but eventually they grew impatient, and ignored his condition. As time went

on, Allen outgrew his outbursts of emotion, but the fear of death always remained, and as he

grew older it insidiously wormed its way into all aspects of his life, making him plaintive when he

was alone and sour when around others. He grew up with the acknowledgment that everything

must end, and this overbearing fact became the lens through which he saw the world. He tried

to desire nothing, because he knew it would eventually be torn from him.

[ 2 ]

When Allen came of age, he began attending a school a little ways off from his farm.

When he first entered the classroom, his first impression was that it was rather forgettable. The

schoolhouse was a humble construction, with a simple rectangular base, and a brick chimney

that protruded out from the rear of the building. The entire structure was elevated up off of the

ground, a foot or so, by an old brick foundation, which was originally used to hold up a previous

farmhouse that had been blown over by a storm. The bricks were conspicuously mismatched

and uneven, with some being weathered and faded and the newer bricks that made up the

steps that lead up to the entrance being distinct and bright. For the building's exterior, there was

a white siding with timber panels, overlapping each other. The paint that coated them had been

battered off in small areas by wind, revealing the original veins of the cedar that made up the

planks. Several windows lined the sides of the building as well as two on either side of the door.

Each one was indistinguishable from the other besides the slight aging of the glass. They each

had a light brown paint on the lining around them as well as on the grids that divided up the

glass. The roof had similarly colored eaves that bordered the grey paneling, covering the roof.

The door to the building had a white coat of paint and four panels, as well as a trim that

corresponded to that of the windows and roof. The doorknob was made of a dark metal with an

oval shape. When opened, the bottom edge of the door would scrape against the floor, making

a distinct curved marking on the hardwood. The floor was made of grey strips of wood that

extended parallel to the span of the room. The flooring had many scratches, concentrating

around the legs of the desks, and some of the planks were slightly upturned at one end. The

frames of the desks were made of black iron. Their seats and desks were made of white pine

wood, each with a chalk board and a small stick of chalk placed on the table. Ms. Lena's desk

was set near the front of the room, well-organized with textbooks, notebooks, and her bronze

bell, all neatly lined up along her desk. Behind her desk was a large iron furnace connected to

the chimney.

In class, Allen attracted little attention. Most people ignored him, and as he was

reasonably good in most subjects he was rarely reprimanded by his teacher. He kept to himself

most of the time, and during recess sat by himself on a withered tree stump a little ways off from

the classroom, watching the other children dance and run about with laughter and gleeful looks.

Despite his solitude, he never desired to join them, and merely observed their enjoyment like a

cat observes its surroundings atop a garden wall, puzzling at how they could be so happy when

they were going to die. Allen felt a kind of arrogance, thinking he was above such petty

enjoyment. He went through the days of school in this manner, a shadow of a boy, until he

reached the sixth grade. This was when he first saw Cyrus Trask.

One morning Allen arrived in the classroom to find everyone ogling at something at the

front of the room. Being average height, he had to crane his neck to get a good view of what,

and saw that it was a new student. Normally he would be disinterested - there had already been

two new students earlier that year, who had both simply melded in with the groups of happy

children in Allen's mind - but there was something different about the student that now stood at

the front of the class. He seemed to have an aura of superiority; he looked down at the students

staring at him with a slightly upturned chin, and seemed neither put off or nervous because of

the attention given to him; on the contrary, he seemed to enjoy it, with a hint of a smile on his

lips. Allen had never seen anyone like him.

Cyrus was told to sit down, and he walked to his seat with the kind of swagger that only

those who believe that they are above being judged by anyone else have. Allen stared at him

and took in everything about him; his light brown hair, his bright eyes, his broad shoulders, and

his callused hands. Suddenly Allen was filled with several emotions, from anger to jealousy to

admiration. He tried to suppress the feelings and was confused when he couldn't. Maybe part of

the reason he was feeling as he did was because he had never felt like anyone else in the class

had challenged his idea of quiet superiority.

During recess, Allen watched Cyrus from his usual place in the schoolyard. He was

puzzled, because he had expected Cyrus to be surrounded by a group of admirers, but he was

alone like Allen was. Allen considered approaching him. At first he became nervous at the idea,

and was apprehensive at the possibility of rejection or attracting attention from other students,

but he then gave himself a mental slap and considered that what the other students thought

about him wouldn't matter in the end, and that in reality no one would notice or care about him

anyway. He wrestled with the idea, trying to use it to overcome his hesitation, but in the end he

decided not to and settled back in to the comfort of passivity.

The next day, Allen was once again watching Cyrus, when Cyrus suddenly got up. Allen

averted his gaze, and looked around at the other students.

"Hey."

Allen looked up, surprised. Cyrus was standing over him. Allen tried to think of

something to say, but couldn't, and simply stared. He tried to remain calm and composed, but

he was too surprised by the fact that Cyrus had approached him. Cyrus gave him a look akin to

pity, then turned around and sat down where he had been before. Allen cursed himself, then

wondered why he did, realizing that whether or not he had made a good first impression on

Cyrus they would both eventually die and none of it would matter. He put the negative thought

out of his head and resolved to approach Cyrus the next day.

During recess the following morning, Allen walked up to where Cyrus sat and stood

awkwardly for a moment before beginning the conversation.

"Hi there."

Allen stood lamely while waiting for Cyrus to respond, but after a moment Cyrus looked

up and spoke.

"Hey. I talked to you yesterday, didn't I?"

Allen nodded, and, although awkward at first, they began to talk about a multitude of

things. Allen was surprised it was so easy for them to talk, and he began to admire Cyrus even

more. Cyrus boasted about how he had killed three rabbits the other day, beaten two kids older

than him in wrestling, and other things of that nature. Allen listened, and was both deeply

impressed with his accomplishments and excited because he felt that he could accomplish the

same thing as well. The recess passed faster for him than it ever had before, and Allen spent

remainder of his time in class reflecting on Cyrus's greatness. He wanted to become like Cyrus,

strong and admirable. The thought of death seemed farther away than it had before; it was hard

to imagine anyone like Cyrus dying.

When he walked home that day, Allen came across a black walnut tree. He was

somewhat surprised, as he had never noticed it before, and upon examining it he wondered why

he hadn't. It was a large tree with a thick trunk and a wide canopy of leaves, with roots that

popped out of the ground in various places and tangled over each other as they converged on

the central tree trunk. The trunk had thick dark bark covering it, which was broken up by jagged

cracks, and exuded a kind of ancient immovable power. From the trunk, smaller branches

fanned out, and seemed to reach infinitely high into the sky. The tips of the branches were

covered in lush leaves, which were long, slender, and tapered into sharp points. The sun

illuminated the leaves and they shown with a vibrant shade of green. Allen felt humbled by the

tree, and stood for a moment admiring it. Through openings in the leaves, beams of sunlight

were cast down, and created small dots of light among the roots. The spots of light danced

around as gusts of wind struck the leaves, and they drew Allen's attention back down to the

roots. He saw numerous walnuts scattered around the base of the tree, and as he was looking

at them he decided to pick one up. He rubbed the coarse shell in his hands, then held it up to

the light to admire it. It looked strangely delicate, pale and wrinkled like human skin. He pried at

the rough exterior, and spent a while trying to open it. He felt excitement when he finally did,

and popped the seed from the shell into his mouth, then gagged and coughed at the dry after

taste. He threw the hard shell to the ground, and wondered why he had been so excited to open

it.

.[ 3 ]

As the two boys spent more time together, their relationship evolved into a kind of

rivalry; both became top students of the class and the best at games in the schoolyard, gaining

praise from the teacher and admiration from the other students. For Allen, Cyrus provided

motivation that he had never known before; he wanted to become better than Cyrus, and

worked hard toward his new goal. For Cyrus, Allen was new competition that he had to assert

his dominance and prove his superiority over. He acknowledged Allen as above the other

students but still below himself. Between the two of them, Cyrus was always the one to receive

more praise from the teacher, could always beat Allen at the games they played, and as such

encouraged Adam with a kind of protective smugness because he knew his superiority and

believed that Allen would never catch up to him. While Allen was sometimes comforted by

Cyrus' kind words, he also sometimes felt a fear of him, because he knew that Cyrus was better

than he was and could easily turn the words of encouragement into sour words of scorn and

contempt.

It was ironic, but as much time as the boys spent together, they rarely actually thought

about one another and were each absorbed in their own world. Their conversations were mostly

both boys preening their own ego and paying little mind to what the other said unless it was of

contentious nature. For example, a typical conversation they would have while walking home

together might go along these lines:

" Hello. "

" Hey there. What did you think of my poem recital? "

" It was good. "

" I barely even spent any time reading it. I think I memorized it after reading it twice. "

" That's good. Did I tell you about the boy I beat in wrestling yesterday? "

Their relationship continued in this way for a long time, with neither boys paying any

mind to the one sided nature of their conversations. They were simply happy to have an

audience and companionship. When talking to Cyrus, Allen felt a warmth and deep happiness,

and the thoughts of death and the future rarely crossed his mind. At the time, Allen hoped that

he and Cyrus would remain friends forever, and feared the day when they would eventually

have to part.

[ 4 ]

One day, walking home from school, Cyrus and Allen heard a mewing from behind the

walnut tree. It sounded pained, and although Cyrus wanted to continue walking and ignore it,

Allen urged him to come with him behind the tree to investigate. They walked around the tree

and found the source of the mewing, which was a cat whose back legs had been crushed by a

branch that had fallen off of the walnut tree. Its coat was a light grey with dark stripes of varying

darkness and thickness across it. The paws were small for its overall size, and were stubby and

round. Dark markings of the fur defined the areas from which the claws could extend. The

pattern of dark stripes showed greatly on the cat's legs, which banded around the ankles and

grew lighter as they got closer to the body. The pattern of dark lines continued to the end of the

tail, which was limp on the ground. The body itself was small and slender, and the lines from the

tail and legs blended on it, leading up to the neck. The cat's neck had one dark defined line that

resembled a collar. Its head was quite large in proportion to the rest of the body, and if not for

the face, could easily have been mistaken for a kitten. The ears themselves were tall, yet

narrow, with sharp angular points at the ends, and the skin of the ears was very thin. The

distinct pattern of lines that covered the body ended around the face to provide a blank canvas

for the eyes, nose, and mouth. The opening for the eyes were small, rounded slits, and the eyes

seemed to sink into the face. The cat's pupils were small as to make the yellow eye color more

prominent. The nose was a very light shade of pink, making it blend well with the white fur. The

cat's mouth was bent downward, and made it seem as if the cat were frowning.

Allen stared at the cat for a moment, perplexed by its strange appearance. He felt a pity

for it, seeming fragile and helpless, and then felt the urge to take action. He ran up to the branch

that the cat had been crushed under, intending to lift it up, but the cat hissed as he approached

it. Allen paused and looked at its yellow eyes, and felt distrust and dislike emanating from them.

"I don't think he wants you to help him," Cyrus muttered.

Allen ignored him and tried lifting the branch up. He pulled as hard as he could, but the

branch wouldn't budge. He felt his face turning red as he imagined Cyrus judging him from

behind, but when he turned around Cyrus was examining the trunk.

"Hey, could you help me out here?" Allen asked.

Cyrus nodded, then stepped beside Allen and lifted the branch with ease. Allen felt

humbled and jealous at Cyrus's strength but tried to forget about it. He then reached down for

the cat, but when his hands came close to the cat's face it hissed and bit him. Allen yelled in

pain and fell back, clutching his bleeding hand. Cyrus watched, amused, then approached the

cat himself. It hissed at him as well, but Cyrus stared at it for a moment and the cat eventually

stopped, whereupon Cyrus picked it up in one arm, then walked over to Allen and helped him up

with the other. They then walked back to the schoolhouse, Cyrus standing upright and leading

the way and Allen trailing close behind, hunched over and grasping his hand.

Ms. Lena was still tidying up the classroom when they walked in, and Cyrus handed her

the cat and explained the situation to her. Allen felt somewhat lame, standing off to the side

grasping his bleeding hand, and felt annoyance and resentment when Ms. Lena thanked only

Cyrus for helping the cat. He wasn't even the one who had wanted to help the cat in the first

place. Allen looked at the two of them, then decided that they wouldn't notice if he slipped out.

Before he went, he looked back at the cat, who was glaring and hissing at Ms. Lena.

[ 5 ]

Eventually, Allen grew tired of the sorrow that came from depressing thoughts that

crossed his mind when he was alone and wanted to alleviate them. It had never occurred to him

to try to tell anyone else about it, but he decided that he would share it with Cyrus.

They were on the way back from school, and it was under the walnut tree that Allen

brought up the topic.

He was tentative at first, and said slowly, "Hey, Cyrus... have you ever thought of

death?"

Cyrus turned toward him and seemed surprised, then said, "'Course I have. Everyone

does, don't they?"

It was then Allen's turn to be surprised. He had never considered that others might think

the same thing he had. He felt slightly annoyed, as he had felt a kind of pride in the idea of

being a lone sufferer. He paused for a moment, trying to come up with the right words for what

he wanted to ask.

"Well, when you think about death, do you get really scared? I mean, isn't it scary to

think about not being there, not seeing or hearing or smelling anything forever?"

Cyrus considered the idea, but as he had never thought of it much himself, the concept

went over his head and he didn't try to understand it.

"I suppose so," he said off handedly. Then he began talking about how Ms. Lena had

praised him for his handwriting earlier in the day.

Allen felt a pang of annoyance, and maybe it was then that he realized that for the most

part Cyrus talked only of himself and thought only of himself. He tried to recall a time when

Cyrus had asked Allen something about himself, but found that he could not. This troubled him.

He had always thought that their friendship was an ideal one, but he was beginning to realize

that they both rarely talked about anything other than themselves. He dwelled on the idea a little

longer, then put the thought out of his head and tried to talk to Cyrus as he had before.

From that moment on Allen began to lose his motivation. He began to talk to Cyrus more

and more of death and pointlessness of life, and when Cyrus bragged about his

accomplishments Allen began to reprimand him in a condescending tone, reminding him that no

one really cared about him and were all only thinking about themselves. Cyrus felt annoyance at

the change that came over Allen. He got the impression that Allen was overstepping the place

of inferiority that Cyrus had gotten used to him occupying, and he disliked the idea of Allen

talking to him as if he knew more than him. Despite his dislike of the new manner in which Allen

talked, Cyrus attempted to ignore it and tried to talk as he always had, deciding to use the

opportunity to establish himself as mature enough to brush off Allen's words.

[ 6 ]

It was a cold and boring day that Allen and Cyrus decided to visit the dock near the

schoolhouse. They had gotten bored of their usual spot, and were curious about the place

where they had often seen other children playing. As they approached the dock, Cyrus seemed

to be excited, but upon seeing it Allen felt apprehension. The dock was perched up on some of

the steeper parts of the beach, and the aged wood looked dark black from a distance due to

countless years of battering from the sea. The pillars that supported the dock were covered in

mussels that protruded out like spikes above the waves. Many of the structural cross-beams

that connected the pillars had come lose and hung diagonally by one nail. The dock itself only

extended into the ocean by five or six pillars, but the water was already relatively deep there.

Many of the planks and boards that made up the dock were missing or barely attached, and the

pieces of wood still standing were rotting and falling apart. They were cracked along their veins,

and all of their knots had fallen out. The nails holding the planks together were coated in brown

rust that stained the wood around them along the path that the water flowed. Many of them were

broken and protruded out from the planks far enough to pierce a thick shoe. The boards and

pillars creaked and moaned under the stress from the wind and the waves.

Allen was hesitant to come closer to the dock, but Cyrus was walking quickly toward it

and Allen felt himself pulled toward him. He caught up as Cyrus reached the beginning of the

dock, and paused when he saw that Cyrus was staring into the ocean. The waves were

reflected in his eyes, which looked strangely cold and detached as they gazed at the crash and

roll of the ocean. Allen turned toward the ocean himself and was mesmerized by the infinite

grayness that lay before him. He felt naked, and a shiver went up his spine as he tried to grasp

the vastness of it. Suddenly he crouched down and grabbed hold of the ground, as if the ocean

would carry him away if he stood too tall. As he was crouching, Cyrus began to walk forward on

to the dock.

Allen was afraid. He called for Cyrus to come back, but Cyrus continued to walk forward.

Allen wanted to go with him but his body rejected the idea of being exposed on the dock so far

in to the gray and vast ocean. He tried to move but couldn't.

"Wait, Cyrus!" Allen called.

By the time Allen called out Cyrus was already at the end of the dock, and standing with

his hands behind his back, the wind whipping at his hair as he stared into the ocean. Allen

suddenly felt anger at himself. Why was he so afraid? He forced himself to get up, and walked

shakily to the dock. His legs felt like they would give out from under him with every step, but he

eventually made it and got beside Cyrus, whereupon he immediately crouched down and

grabbed onto the sides of some of the planks. Cyrus looked down at him, and Allen felt

embarrassed and pathetic but said nothing. He and Cyrus stood, staring out at the sea for a few

minutes, Allen staying only because Cyrus was. He felt more and more inferior as time passed,

feeling envious of Cyrus's strong stance and stare, and also angry because he had the

impression that Cyrus was enjoying being in such an obvious position of superiority.

Eventually Cyrus slowly turned and headed back on the dock. Allen felt relief, and got up

as well, but when he tried to follow Cyrus back he wavered and fell - a nail had gotten stuck in

the hem of his pants and threw off his balance. He screamed as he fell off the dock.

He felt a blind panic as he fell into the ocean and its coldness surrounded him. He

struggled to breathe but found that he couldn't. He thrashed his body around but the world was

growing darker around him. He regretted even coming close to the dock and hated Cyrus for

pulling him toward the dock. Then the world went black.

Allen awoke later in the classroom. He was covered in a towel and propped up in a

corner. He felt extremely cold and shivered, then cracked his eyes open and peeked out at the

room. He saw Cyrus standing on the other side of the room, surrounded by a gaggle of boys

and girls. He closed his eyes and listened to what they were saying.

"Was the water cold?"

"How were you not afraid of the water?"

"How did he fall in? Did you push him?"

"I can't believe you saved him!"

Allen closed his eyes, and felt resentment and hate slowly coursing through his body. He

felt like a tool that Cyrus had used to further his own greatness. He realized that he hated

everything about Cyrus; how he selfishly talked only of himself, how he looked down upon

everyone else and was so sure in his superiority, and how he could move forward and face what

Allen feared. He tried to suppress the feeling again, telling himself that it was useless to be

angry and that in reality his temporary glory would be gone anyway, but the anger stayed

nagging at the back of his head and he decided to let it stay.

[ 7 ]

Over the next few months, the relationship between Allen and Cyrus degraded from

healthy rivalry into bitter hatred hidden beneath a facade of friendly social interaction. Allen was

sick of being under Cyrus and Cyrus began to loathe the dreariness and listlessness that Allen

had taken on. They had both grown tired of talking to each other and only continued to do so

because they had been friends for so long that neither wanted to destroy the relationship that

they had built.

As the hate for Cyrus that Allen had been housing grew, he began to grow impatient with

Cyrus. Whenever Cyrus tried to talk about himself, Allen would either interject with a sour

interruption or reply in a biting manner. It was because of this that Cyrus' patience also began to

waver, and eventually it got to the point where the anger in both boys was fiery and barely held

back, with both ready to snap given the right opportunity.

The opportunity came when Cyrus began absent mindedly reminiscing about how he

had saved Allen from drowning. He began to talk of how he had gotten presents from many of

the other students' parents and how they were relieved that Cyrus had been there.

All of the sudden, the hatred that Allen had been cultivating for Cyrus broke to the

surface. He felt anger like he never had before, and wanted to destroy everything about Cyrus;

his confidence, his superiority, his self assured encouragement.

"I despise you. You're such a selfish person. You gave me empty encouragement

because you think you're better than me. No one's going to care no matter how great you

become anyway." The words came out like a hiss.

Cyrus looked taken aback, but then regained his composure. He looked down at Allen

with a cold eye, causing him to falter and regret lashing out. Cyrus stared at him for a moment

before speaking.

"You're such a funny boy, you know that? The way you talk about death and life being

meaningless makes me sick. Does it make you feel good to act like you know better than

everyone else? Do you think you're better than anyone just because you're a stick in the mud

who can only think about the depressing parts of life? You think you're smarter 'cause you're

scared? You're pathetic. I think you're jealous because I am better than you. I would clobber you

but you're not worth touching with my fist. Has it ever occurred to you that other people think

about death too? You're nothing special."

Allen opened his mouth several times, trying to speak, but couldn't think of anything to

say. He felt hot blood rise into his face and he fell to the floor, crying tears of frustration. Cyrus

looked at his pathetically crumpled body and felt disgusted. He kicked Allen in the stomach as

hard as he could then turned and walked away.

As Allen laid on the floor, the feelings of misery and pain pouring over his body, he tried

to consider everything that had happened. He suddenly felt as if a curtain had fallen away and

he was able to see the harsh reality behind everything. He realized with his negative self

reassurances that what he did wouldn't matter in the end, he had gotten carried away and

overconfident. It was foolish to think that he could ever reach Cyrus. He also realized that he

and Cyrus had never really been friends, just two people talking for the sake of talking. Lastly,

he realized that in the end there was no one to pity him. People like him were what stopped

society from moving forward, and weren't worth sparing attention to. He suddenly felt very tired.

He was tired of being alive and feeling such fleeting emotions that always passed so quickly it

was like they had never been, tired of feeling irrational fear, tired of trying to reconcile himself

with death. He reflected on how once he died it would be as if he had never lived at all and he

would be forgotten quickly, and how whether he died early or late the end result would be the

same. It was then that he made up his mind. He was tired of running.

[ 8 ]

Allen slowly stepped out on to the dock. He took a deep breath, and marveled at the

crisp and fresh air. He felt the warmth of the sun on his back, and a cool breeze rustled his hair.

He looked around at the rolling hills beside the dock, with the vibrant hues and swaying grass,

and his eyes passed over the black walnut tree, which appeared withered and shrunken.

Looking up, he saw a sky of the deepest blue and fluffy white clouds lazily drifting by. Then, he

looked forward into the ocean. It was peaceful, with gray waves rolling serenely on the water's

surface. He braced himself and fell from the dock.

Cyrus was later told that Allen and his family had moved away. While at first he missed

Allen's company, he forgot about him in a week. He was busy aspiring to greatness and had no

time to dwell on his lost friend.