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I'm waiting.
I stare up at the ceiling, convincing myself that I can stay strong. That I have to stay strong. But I know that I can't.
Tears roll down my cheeks and I lay completely still as I listen to the crickets outside. Nighttime passes quickly, too quickly.
I want it to slow down. Not that I love this life, or even appreciate any aspect of it. But knowing that today is my last full day makes me hope that it will last longer.
No, there isn't any way that I plan to live until tomorrow. Not when I know what the future holds for me.
Endless suffering, never having a family, or a home, or someone who cares about what happens to me or whether or not I live. Maybe if I had someone like that my decision would be different.
But for now, it's final.
I have eighty three dollars and nineteen cents tucked away in my pocket. And this month I won't be paying rent.
If I'm going out today, I'll have to go out with a bang. Or at least a small inaudible puff.
I'll take the bus instead of walking. I'll buy new clothes and shoes from the thrift shop in the next town. Get a sandwich for lunch and leave a tip, brush my hair and buy a rope.
My last day will be the day that I let out all of my anger, I'll cry, and complain and whine until it's all gone.
Tomorrow I won't wear a smile, but I won't frown. I can't frown when I know that it will all be over soon. Especially when I give all that I've got for one more day.
Then I'll come back at around eleven thirty, when it's far too late for anyone to collect my rent. But I know they'll come in the morning.
I'll tie the rope that I've bought from the ceiling fan that never worked anyways, and kick out that small chair from beneath me at the exact second the clock hits twelve.
I always was one for theatrics.
But of course, once i kick that chair away, all I'll feel is pain. Something I'm used to, that is, unless my neck doesn't break first. And maybe I'll struggle for a few minutes, or maybe I will want to take it all back and continue life as if nothing ever happened.
But the air in my lungs will eventually run out, my heart will slow, and if the stories are true, my life will flash before my eyes. Not that I want it to, who wans to be reminded of their horrible life on their death bed.
And eventually, when the moon is at it's highest point, as the stars continue to twinkle in the sky like they always do, it will all be over.
And in the morning. They'll come to collect my rent but I won't have it.
And no one will miss me. No one will care.
Nothing will change, the sun will rise, no love will be lost, no hearts left broken, the wind will still blow, the clock will still tick, the earth will still spin, I just won't
Just the way that it has always been.
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YOU ARE READING
I'll Take You to Neverland
FantasyOnce upon a time, There was a boy. A boy who followed rules and listened to adults, and did his chores. Once upon a time, That boy would rebel, throw tantrums, and stop taking care of all of his responsibilities. Once upon a time, That boy was sent...
