Immortals

On a random Tuesday, sometimes an acquaintance of yours dies. A not-quite friend. A guy you had a class with and followed on Instagram. A guy you briefly knew for three years. How do you grieve for an acquaintance; for someone you found annoying; for someone you will never see again – not that you would even if they were still alive –?

There are no acquaintance-specific stages of grief, although you will experience shock, denial, anger, pain, guilt, bargaining, depression, and acceptance – or at least follow other people as they go through these stages –Instagram story by Instagram story.

This is a personal account of what happened after you died, from the perspective of an Instagram follower and acquaintance.

First, you die.

You died one year and one month after graduating from high school, aged 19. You were the first person to die from your high school’s graduating class. Too soon. Too young.

Your death is not in the news. No headlines.

Within the next 24 hours, your closest friends and family hear the news. They post on their Instagram stories photos of you with statements expressing their grief.

Your best friend makes a GoFundMe on your parent’s behalf to pay for your funeral. I paid $20 to your GoFundMe. Your life was worth 20 Australian dollars to me.w

I cried for you, and I cannot explain why. Was it out of empathy or sympathy? I am not sure. You were in VCAL while I was in VCE, but we were in the same Sound

Production Class in years 11 and 12. You were a familiar face I would walk by in the hallway. I barely remember anything about you, except that you and your friends were a classroom annoyance. And yet I still cried, alone in my bedroom.

I will never walk by you again.

Within 48 hours, Facebook posts are made by your Facebook friends. Thumbs-ups and hearts from people who knew you.

Five days after you die, a funeral notice is published in the Herald Sun Tributes and on mytributes.com.au.

After eight days, a funeral service is held.

You are buried eight days after you die.

Three months later, your friends are still posting about you. Sharing their memories of you, grieving. Using their Instagram stories to tell your story.

I still follow you on Instagram. Your Instagram and Facebook accounts remain unchanged since your death; unless they are memorialised or deleted by family, friends, or next of kin, submitting evidence of your death. (You can also allocate a legacy contact to take control of your account once you die – you did not –.)

It is as if you have forgotten to post for a while, a temporary hiatus. You live on in ones and zeros. Immortalised, until Meta deletes your inactive account – after how long, their terms and conditions do not specify –.