kiribaku oneshots

🍫Impulse🍫

What happens when you die?

Really, it depends on how you die.

What I'm talking about is suicide. What happens after you commit suicide? Not the 'is there an afterlife' thing. What happens to the world?

A lot, actually.

It all mainly happens at school, if you're a teenager.

People who barely knew you start saying that they miss you so much, that your death has effected them greatly. People use your suicide for social media clout. People act like it's such a big deal, when, in reality, they never even knew you existed until you died.

They act like they miss you, when they probably forgot your name on more than one occasion.

Then, a week later, everyone's over you. They move on faster than virgin whores move on from their third boyfriend that week. The janitors take down all the shit people pinned to your locker. People forget your name once again.

That's where you get your answer for 'If I disappeared tomorrow, would anyone notice? Would it matter?'

The answer is yes. But tomorrow only. A week from your disappearance, people will stop caring because there's something new to gossip over.

Would it matter if you disappeared? No. It wouldn't.

Especially if you're me. A nobody with no friends. No one knows my name. No one bothers to learn it.

This is a conversation that happens a lot with me. If I mattered at all. Would my family even notice if I spontaneously died. Those questions pop up a lot when you're left to your thoughts.

My thoughts are rudely interrupted by someone.

"Hey, you've been staring at your food for, like, the entire lunch period. What's so interesting?" He asks me. I immediately recognize him as one of the more popular kids. I'm pretty sure he's one of the guys with a new girlfriend every month.

"Nothing. Don't you have some football to be throwing?" I ask. I know this guy isn't on the football team, he's on the basketball team, but I just want to be stereotypical. After all, I'm stereotyped. Why can't I do the same to others?

"Ouch. That hurts." He says. I just realized I don't know this guy's name. I know he's in my grade, I just don't have any classes with him. Never have. "But, no, I don't."

"Then why aren't you hanging out with your jock friends?" I'm trying to get him to go away. I don't need to be mocked and ridiculed by some dumbass jocks again.

"I wanted to see what's so interesting about your food. I mean, I know school lunches are gross, but I've never seen someone look so intently at some mashed potatoes."

"I was thinking about something. Something that doesn't concern you. You can go away now."

"Ah, whatever." The guy says. I expect him to stand up and leave, but he doesn't. He sits still. "I'm stealing one of your fries." He says, snagging a fry off my tray.

"Wow. Theft. That's gonna look horrible on your permanent record."

"I know, right? What am I gonna do?" He pops the fry into his mouth. "So, what's been up with you?"

"Why do you care?"

"Uh, because I can. Now, just tell me how's your day going." He says that like he's gonna leave after I tell him.

"Good, I guess." I hesitate. "You?"

"I'm good." The guy pulls out a paper, something from English. "So, you're smart, right? Old English is not my strong suit, so I wanted to know if you'd help me."