Each Day

Living in the slums makes every day feel as if it was my last. Constantly looking for food to survive another day. But this day is different. Not because I'm hungry again. That would make it like so many other days in my life. The difference about this day is that almost everyone believes it will be his last. Today I am simply not the only one who feels this way.

Researchers all over the world have speculated for weeks about the mischief-making comet, believing that it would miss the Earth. Turns out they were wrong. At the firmament of heaven you can see it shimmering in a bright red glow. Watching as it grows with each day, until the inevitable disaster occurs.

Wandering through the streets, I see all different types of people. At the end, people show their true core, the side they tried to hide before. Suddenly, they do things they never did before, because they thought they would have more time. Before today, they wasted their time on trivial things. However, now that the end is near, they regret this and do things differently, even if it is for a single day only. Suddenly, they worry about people they didn't care about their entire life. Disputes are gone today. This so they can separate  from the world peacefully, as if this one day will allow them to forget about all the others.

Others have not given up on a life after the disaster and are hoarding food, hoping they will survive by a miracle. One wonders if this will only buy them more than a few days, as they realize that they can’t survive alone in this world.

There are also the type of people who neither hope for the future, nor repent their past. Today, they do the things they always wanted to do but never had the chance. Daring things that could mean death. It's amazing how little they care about today, because tomorrow seems lost. However, they all have one thing in common. In every living being, this is inherent: they are afraid of what might happen.

Today, I'm quiet, as isn't normally the case. It may be already a habit for me, to live each day as if it was my last. To have no fear of what will happen? No, that is not what runs through my mind. I'd be afraid of the morning, if I had the hope to survive today. To survive another day, which is a special for them, is just the same for me as every day.

It is ironic that my parents gave me, someone who never dared to hope to survive today, only one thing. This one thing that has been with me all my life and will accompany me until the end. It's as though they knew from the beginning that I would make it anew every day, no matter how hard it may be. Maybe that's why they gave me this name, Tomorrow.