Sigmund Freud said, "If you want to endure life, prepare to accept death."
I have accepted death, but life is still unbearable.
***
Louis' pov
"Ah-ah-ah-ah! Louis!" a thin scream echoes through the room, and my body falls heavily onto the mattress. I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling until my breathing returns to normal. Damn, that was good. Christy, Sarah, Lucy-whatever her name was - but she was good. Another girl.
"What time is it?" Before she can answer, I catch her wrist and look at my watch. "Fuck!"
3:10pm -is this a joke?! I get up abruptly and run around the room, looking for scattered clothes. I dress, listening to her complaints and insults.
"I have a lecture in five minutes!" Where's that damn shirt?!
"Will you call me?"
"Don't get your hopes up."
And all the same discontent. I'm not paying attention anymore. I've been used to it for a long time. I try to style my hair, but it doesn't work, and I sigh heavily. I grab my jacket, bag, and phone.
"You bastard!
I roll my eyes as I open the door.
"Listen, Kristen...
"Eleanor!
"Yes, of course, Eleanor, it was cool, you're very gifted and all, but... That's the end of it, I don't..." I barely have time to bend down from the table lamp thrown at me. Wow, I look at her in surprise. Every time it gets better and better. I can't help but chuckle ironically as I look at the broken glass on the floor. "Okay, I see. You have a nice day" and I leave the room, hearing her screams.
***
Deep sigh. Crazy, I can't stop laughing before looking at my phone. 15:18.
"Damn it."
It only remains for me to run. School started three weeks ago, and I haven't been on time yet. At such moments, I realize that the campus of the university is very large, and, panting, I run to the classroom. The door suddenly opens and I am roughly pushed.
"Can you be careful?"
I get up quickly and try to resume breathing. All I see is a mass of curly hair disappearing down the hall.
"Did you forget 'sorry'?"
Most likely, yes, because he never turns around.
"Jerk."
I adjust my shirt and run a hand through my hair before entering the classroom.
"Look, Mr. Tomlinson has deigned to please us with his presence."
I roll my eyes and sit down on one of the benches. It's always the same, and I thought the teachers in college didn't pay attention to the students, but I guess when your father is the main sponsor of the university, it makes a difference. Just sitting down, I pull out my Mac and log into the campus conversation network. I listen to the lecture, especially without listening. New messages, new numbers, insults, invitations to parties - and among all this, one email caught my attention.
«What would you do if you only had 100 days to live?»
No signature, no name. I go to his profile, but it's empty. There are no photos, no description, no information. Just a blank page with the alias "Anonymous".I hesitate for a few seconds, but still decide to answer:
«I don't know... Probably would have lived. I would try to live.»
And I'm waiting. I look at the screen, running my fingers over the table, but nothing happens. No answer.
***
Twelve days have passed since then, and I have made it a habit to send an anonymous countdown every day. Stupidly. I've never received an answer and have no idea why I'm doing this, but his question bothers me. I can't stop imagining the scenario of a tragic movie. What if this person wants to commit suicide in 100 days? I don't understand anything.
«88».
I stare at my Mac's screen for almost ten minutes, ignoring the din of the cafeteria as I send a message. I look up and see the guy who pushed me the other day knocking over another person's tray. He looks annoyed. Everyone is looking at them. I'm too far away to hear what they're saying, but it seems to be very tense.
"Hey, man," I say, jumping up when I see Liam. I didn't even hear him approach. I look at him out of the corner of my eye before turning my attention to the stage. Mr. Curly pushes the poor guy hard (who, by the way, falls painfully to the floor) and quickly leaves the cafe. "Do not pay attention."
"What's wrong with him?" I turn my eyes away from the door to look at my best friend.
"I don't know, people say he's sick. I don't care, are you going to the party tomorrow? I take the invitation he holds out.
"Yeah..."
"Okay, I'll go then. I have a date in five minutes, I don't want to be late again."
"Go ahead."
And he was gone as quickly as he had come. I wave at him, looking around the cafeteria, and I don't know why, but my eyes once again take in the door where Mr. I-Push-All-I-Can has disappeared.
I look around the room for a few more seconds before abruptly waving my head and walking out, too.
***
«71».
I'm sending. I lie on the bed with my laptop on my stomach, flipping through all my messages and reviewing the numbers. I've lost all hope of getting a response, and I'm just about to turn off the computer when a notification pops up about a new message. I open my eyes wide. I can't believe it. He or she answered me. I take a comfortable position and hesitate for a few seconds. It's like I've waited too long and I can't believe I got an answer. I open it:
«What are you doing?»
«A countdown.»
«Why?»
«What will happen in 100 days? More precisely, in 71?»
«Nothing.»
I stare at the screen like an idiot, not knowing what to say. At first I want to insult him. I've been writing to him for 29 days. 29 days waiting for an answer, and all he tells me is "nothing"?! Too easy. But before I can think of an answer, it goes offline.
"Shit!"
Angrily, I throw the computer on the floor and turn off the light. I'm not just going to let it go.
YOU ARE READING
The Degradation (translation)
FanfictionI was the real stereotype of the ideal life. Yeah, damn stereotypes. And then I met him. With his green eyes, with his weirdness... And with his illness. "What would you do if you only had 100 days to live?" - Anonymous "I don't know. Probably wou...
