The sound you are hearing is not radio static. It is not the noise of sirens. It is the sound of one man's mounting anxiety. A man who knows exactly the day of his death. And I am that man.
March 13th, 2084. My last birthday. My last day being alive. In two months, on the 13th of March, I'll be 29, but I'll never get to be 30. I'll be dead.
That thought hangs over me like a constant reminder of all the question marks I won't answer; of a life cut short and thrown away.
The pen in my hand suddenly cracks from pressure, spattering its black ink on the files in front of me. I groan in frustration and immediately throw the useless pen against the wall. I go to wipe the ink, but it seems the more I try, the worse it gets, and in the end the whole document is completely illegible.
"Fuck it!" I stand up so quickly that the chair is sent back flying, making a deafening crash once slamming on the floor. By now I don't care, though. I am already facing the wall, my fist in the air. "Fuck—" Punch. "—my—" And another one. "—life!" And another one.
I punch and punch the wall until I hear my knuckles crack; until my skin tears, and blood runs down my fist. I punch the wall until I feel my head clearing and my eyes drying. Until the pain in my hand makes me forget the pain in my heart.
After what feels like ages, I take a deep breath and slowly slide down my back against the wall. The room has turned quiet again, making my raging thoughts even louder. As the dark night is sweeping down from the sky and the shadows engulf me, I sit on the cold floor, staring into space.
I sit with my anger long enough, until she finally tells me her real name is grief.
BINABASA MO ANG
A God's Last Death
Fanfiction𝗔 𝗟𝗼𝗸𝗶 𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗰 In a slowly dying city completely cut off from the rest of the world, anyone turning 30 is killed. Now it's Andrew's turn. Andrew Wilson has accepted his fate, or so he thinks. But when he crosses paths with Kai, a handsome...
