All life is precious. I can’t take a life. Even the thought of punching someone makes me sick. Why? I mean, I eat animals and I kill bugs so why couldn’t I take a life myself. What makes it so different for me? I guess it has something to do with not liking death. I am not afraid of it, because I know where I am going when I die. Death is unsettling to me, and terrifying if you think about it. Let me tell you a story and then you might better understand why I feel this way.

The first time I can recall death was when I was about seven, or maybe nine. I don’t really remember when, those early years aren’t very clear you know. In the back yard of my house we had a swing set. Bright red with black and white accents. I played on it with my little brother and sister often. Anyways, I was out there… swinging. When I noticed a slug next to the swing. Living in North Idaho, it was a common thing, but I was young and sometimes common things were exciting. I immediately stopped swinging and went over to it. I crouched down and poked it with a stick, my ratty curls getting in the way.

I don’t remember if my brother was with me or not, but I want to say he was. I decided that I needed to show my mother right away. I ran into the house yelling her name, “Mom, mom, mom! Come look at this. You gotta come see what I found.”

My mother was washing dishes, or maybe she was doing laundry… I don’t really remember. Anyways, like any good mother, she stopped what she was doing to come see what I found. We went outside and I showed her the slug I had found. It had left a shiny path on the dirt, perhaps so it could remember where it had come from. My mom praised my find, and we stared at the ugly little thing for a while. Then my mom said she wanted to show me something cool, and she went back inside. I stayed watching it move ever so slowly across the dirt.

My mother returned a few moments later with the salt shaker in her hands. I don’t remember her exact words, but she said something like, “Go ahead and sprinkle this on it. The salt has a chemical reaction with its slimy skin.”

Not really knowing what that meant, I dumped some salt on the slug. The moment after I did it, I regretted it. The slug began to bubble and the thing caved in on itself. I burst into tears when I realized it was dying. I mean, I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew it was suffering. It was suffering because of me. My mother was shocked at my tears, and tried to explain to me that it was just a slug and that there were many other ones in the woods.

I don’t blame my mother for it, I know she was just trying to teach me something. And it did teach me something, probably not what she intended, but something. It taught me that all life is precious. It didn’t just die, it suffered. It suffered at my hand. That slug didn’t deserve to die. Why? Because I am not God, and yes I know God has given us dominion over the Earth. I just can’t do it myself. Call me weak if you want, but seeing the life drain out of something is not worth it for me.

Since then my perspective on death has developed. I was afraid of it for a while, afraid more of the pain that comes with it. I haven’t experienced much death in my lifetime, but each one broke me in a different way. When I was ten the death of my hamster, Rose who chewed the plastic around her cage essentially killing her, made me cry like never before. The one that hurt the most was the death of my dog Chester; he was a good dog. Even as I write this, I am getting teary-eyed thinking about it.

Now, I know you’re thinking, “Those were just animals, you haven’t really lost someone.” I know, and I don’t even want to think about that. God has blessed me with having all of my relatives and friends that I hold dear still alive today. I know death is an inescapable part of life, something that everyone will go through. Death is horrible for all parties involved. It takes life and leaves behind a hollow carcass. The smell of death is acrid, leaving a lasting stench in your memories. So I will avoid death, not my own because that is impossible, and pray that I find strength when death catches up to me.