Post by Administrator on Apr 3, 2010 1:04:19 GMT -8
rowan ;;
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About a year ago I took a... "field trip" I guess you'd call it to our county's morgue. Inside we, as students, all saw a bunch of pretty fucked up and considerably trauma-inducing things. Several jars of organs were set up on an autopsy table, jars of aborted fetuses, bloody clothes in a drying closet... you name it. The place totally reeked of preservative and dead.
As soon as I walked inside (you can choose to believe this or not) I felt.. something. An overwhelming sadness. A male presence calling out for someone, anyone. It really unnerved me. At first I felt so sure that the jars of organs on the table belonged to him. I was really disappointed when I found out otherwise.
After looking at everything I just kind of hung out in the corner, trying to disregard the weird feeling from before. I noticed my forensics teacher talking to one of the coroners. I tried eavesdropping but I couldn't really get what they were saying. They seemed to be arguing then eventually agreeing about something.
Suddenly the coroner stepped up, begins instructing to those who would be uncomfortable with seeing a dead body to leave the room. Everyone kind of breaks into a hushed panic, a few went for the door and the rest of us just stood pretty warily in the room. I wanted to leave, I didn't want to see a dead body, but I couldn't move.
I heard the door open...
...and the smell
As soon as the door even cracked a bit open the death totally just.. spilt into the room. You could shower with scalding hot water on hours on end and not forget that smell. Cant get it out of your hair, nothing.
My heart was throbbing at the time. I had only seen another dead body once and that belonged to my grandpa. I was really scared for some reason. The idea at the time of seeing a dead guy was just.. -shudder-
And then I saw him.
I knew it was him, the presence that wanted to make himself known before. I got a good look at him..dark hair.. early to mid 40's... horizontal slits on his wrists.. and a terrible blue and red mark around his neck.
I felt so overwhelmed with emotion looking at him. Hurt, sadness.. it felt like seeing an old friend that destroyed themself. I was just asking myself why I was doing this to myself.. why was I hurting for him?
The coroner then said something along the lines of this...
"He may have not felt like his life was worth much... but his death is teaching you something now. It's giving his life meaning."
I never forgot that day. In fact I was thinking about it a lot recently. I realized I wanted to do something for that man. I wanted to give his life meaning, too. So I created this ragdoll for him. He goes by the name of 'Rowan' and is always smiling.
Rowan had a deep impact on my life and I wanted to return the favor. I am giving him the ability to touch other people's lives like he couldn't in death. So I gave him a new life.
I love him dearly. I know he's still with me.. and that he is thankful (thanks to a few friends for helping me see this.)