Valhalla gets a new resident

The few hours before my untimely demise

Before all of you read this I would very much like to point out, I did not want to die. Yet, I did, and I guess I've made my peace with that. But you lucky readers get to see how it all went down and what happened after, you know, I went belly up. Now, I know what you are thinking right about now. What do you mean after?

Personally, I thought the EXACT same thing. But my story doesn't really begin until after I get murdered. So hold your horses, this is about to get interesting.

...

Cue that intro!

Hey, my name is Taylor. I'm 16 years old and I feel like I HAVE to say it, I'm not very normal. At least not societies expectation of it. I of course didn't know this until AFTER the incident, so lucky me! I lived my life, all 16 years thinking I was no different than the people around me.

It was October 6th, and I've got to say, despite what my old friends may tell you, (they would launch into a dialogue of me complaining ever since September how school has started and Summer is over) I love this month. I live in Massachusetts, a few hours from Boston. And even though I can't see the stars at night, I can watch the leaves change color.

It's hard to describe myself in just a couple of words, so here's what I'll say: I'm a jack of all trades, if you will. I don't have a specific natural talent that I excel at; instead there's just a bunch of random things that I'm slightly above average in. I was a starter on my soccer team, I knew a lot of people but wasn't considered popular, and always dreamed of ways to get out of my suffocating suburb, just to drive the endless roads and never look back. That was it. I just simply existed for my short 16 years of life. One day I'm in the top 20 of a cross country race and the next im picking up a new language in less then a week or arguing my way to the top of the debate team before abruptly dropping down again. I was a good liar and a fast learner, and maybe I would've put that to better use in school, had I actually tried, but my classes didn't interest me enough. My short attention span and ADHD was my crutch that stopped me from getting higher then a B. So I remained average, and more importantly, under the radar. Oh how I loved camping out under the radar. I highly recommend it, take advantage of it while you can; because that night, the night where I stared aimlessly into shifting colors of my tree's leaves on the back porch, I no longer had the luxury of remaining unseen.

That's all changed though, I don't get to live an average, unspectacular existence. Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I wasn't as good hiding, would they have come to find me and help me sooner? Or would the threats have just come and killed me off long ago? Guess there's no way of knowing.

But who cares about the couldhavebeens. Let's get back onto my last hours. I remember almost every detail if that night, except for why I was sitting outside with my shoes off and feet propped up, watching the sky pass through the fall foliage. Maybe it was because I felt emotionally attached to that goddamn tree, and somehow my subconscious knew that it was the last time I would be able to see it. According to my mom I always loved that fucking tree, and threw a tantrum when I was little when there was a debate about chopping it down. The trashy watercolor painting of it I made when I was 3 still hung on the fridge, surrounded by bills and overdue notices that I pinned on the magnetic surface to remind my mom.

Back to the tree in my backyard, the leaves were red, gold, orange, and yellow, (obviously) And the way the sun sunk behind it in the afternoon was so beautiful that even my 3 year old brain knew how amazing it was.

Now there I was, 13 years later, watching that tree, painting in my head what I saw and how I felt. I unfortunately recall the frustrated tension and weight of family duties that crushed my throat. I remember the resentment toward my mom bubbling in my chest.