The Day I Died

Chapter 1

I gave up on life far before life gave up on me.

To me, Death was an option.

I dreamed what life would be, had it been void of the struggles that I face in my daily life. I wonder what life could've been like, had I been "normal".

However, I was fated to face such misery, so I rather calmly accepted defeat.

Was it even worth it?

I was tired of smelling like sterilized equipment. My life in the hospital was almost as if I was in prison, I felt as though my life was bound to the 6 walls that surrounded me 24/7. I dreamt of what it would feel like to have a better chance to live through my youthful years. I was confined to the rim of my thoughts, and could not escape the avid horizons and landscapes my imagination created.

I was a cancer patient, I was 17, I hadn't even started having a go at life and there I was constrained to my hospital bed and the occasional walk through the dimly lit lonely corridors.

I was numb most of the time, physically from the sedatives and mentally from the voidness of my mind of emotion.

I had nothing and no one to feel for. I had no friends whatsoever. So that's off the checklist, and as for family, I had only my aunt and uncle.

Both my parents had been killed in car crashes. I say that in the plural form because they died separately, on the same day, on the same road, same time but at two ends of the road.

Ironic, isn't it?

The crashes were the result of a few riots that broke out at that time, causing a mass amount of chaos throughout the city. As the government was partially responsible for my parents' death, they sent representatives to our home, in an effort to calm me.

But they didn't know that I'd rather believe in ghosts than in politicians.

So as you might have figured, all their efforts were worthless.

I had lost the feeling to feel, the emotion to be emotive and the will to live.

Their words had little if any effect on my yearning and troubled mind for I was devastated to my very core.

My parents were my everything, they were my day, they were my night, my life ahead seemed barren, and devoid of people, feelings and emotion.

I used to dream about them every night, just around the time Ali Gatie decided to release a song with the lyrics, "Isn't it ironic the one I dream about is the reason I can't sleep". Yes, I know.

I had no siblings to give me even a distant feeling of consolation, I lost all the love the world had for me. The hollow words everyone uttered, I had enough of that bullshit. Their words were as hollow as the intent behind them. They had no meaning for they were only uttered, by nightfall the words of the day would disappear.

The only "family" I had were my aunt and uncle, whom I never liked from my childhood. When my residence was going to be discussed, i had no say as i was just a so-called minor under the law, i was sent to live with my aunt and uncle.

They had no children of their own, so they treated me as their own, not much to my satisfaction.

I liked to be left alone, in the corner of my room, alone in my own world of imagination, dipping in and out of reality. I don't fancy being pampered, let alone by the aunt and uncle I didn't like even the slightest.

They apparently tried to give me the best life possible, but did they even understand that watering a dead plant bears no fruit?

I say apparently because I didn't feel the slightest comfort in what they were doing, their physical efforts to keep me afloat were going to waste for I was drowning inside eternally.

After crying for one and a half years and somehow living with my "new parents", I realized nothing could be worse for I couldn't take this life anymore.

I was one hundred percent done with life.

I didn't know I was suicidal but my actions sure showed it.

I tried to cut my wrists but I didn't find any razor handy, all I got were slight marks from paper cuts which I made on purpose. I wanted to jump from the top of the building, but that clearly wasn't an option, as there were no tall buildings in the vicinity and I didnt want to die falling from the first floor, that would just be lame.

Yes , I laugh at myself, and I laughed whimsical when I heard Joaquin Phoenix (aka Joker) say, "I used to think my life was a tragedy, but now I realize, it's a comedy"

Once, on the road in front of my aunt's house I stood in the middle as a car was speeding across it.

My aunt screamed, "EMILY, MOVE!".

I paid no heed to her empty words, just as I had the last one and a half years. I stood there, without movement, without emotion, as the speeding car swept past me, barely swerving away from me, the driver screaming whatnot to me at the top of his lungs.

As I looked towards the window of my aunt's home I saw her, frozen from shock, the fear of losing me avid in her eyes. She was dumbfounded to have witnessed this event, and her whole body reflected that.

2 months later

I was diagnosed with brain cancer.