“Everything will be fine. You are going to be okay. You are a very lucky girl.” That’s what they all said. I’m a very lucky girl, apparently. But I don’t feel Lucky. In fact I feel the opposite of Lucky. I feel unlucky. Why was I the one who survived? I was the one trying to die. No one in there wanted to die. I was the one. I went in there to die but yet I was the one who survived. I survived. They died. HE died. My savior died. The one who wanted to live the most died so I could live instead. Why? Because he’s an asshole and he knows it. I didn’t want to live. But now I can’t die. I have to live for them. I have to live for him. Because he died for it. Because they died for it. They died wanting me to live. I have to live the life they want me to live. This life isn’t mine, it’s theirs. It never belonged to me. It’s theirs, I’m not living. I’ve stopped living a long time ago. This is their life. All those 12 people. This is theirs. This is how it starts:
