It's Not Real

Days are Imaginary

I could be blunt, or I could be easy and softly coax the band-aid off, but there's no fun in that so I won't. I won't ease away the pain, I'll thrust it upon you and watch as you try to squirm free. It won't bring me joy, but in the end it will help you. That's a promise.

I'm 16. Days, weeks, years, it doesn't matter. All that matters is the fact that you know I'm 16. Oh, and another thing that matters, my name. Well, it's Jake. Jake Lawson. There's a third thing that matters, how long i have left to live. Which is about 12 days and counting. 12 days. 288 hours. 13,280 minutes. 796,800 seconds, until I will die. That is what would happen in a perfect world, but this world is far from perfect.

There are many ways in which I can die right now. I can jump off this cliff and plummet straight into the darkness beneath, I can have a heart attack and no one will know, and maybe just maybe, I can get in a car accident on my way home. Driving the speed limit, the car coming my way veers into my lane and I try to swerve out of the way but it's too late. My parents will never know, because to this world I am nothing. I am just another pest.

But the thing is, I cannot jump off the cliff, I cannot get in that car accident, but i can die from a heart attack. I am nowhere near a cliff, no where near a car. I am in my bed and I should be sleeping, but I can't because I will have a heart attack any second. Except, I don't. I'm not afraid of death, but what I am afraid of is stupid. I cannot get treated for it because in my town, people don't get treated. We don't have doctors, so you just deal with your fears. You gulp down every fear you have or think you have and deal with them. You deal with your fears, because in a world where you don't get treated, you deal with everything that you have.

Dealing is what I'm doing with my fears. Not trying to conquer them, just dealing with them. I'll conquer them another day, because I still have 12 days left.