20 Reasons Why We Met

Reason #5: Bad Flues And Amputated Arms

Yesterday was rough. Really rough. I almost died from being punched, Alexa almost died from hiding in the janitor's closet,  and Amelia almost died.

Well, I'm not so sure about the last part, but the fact that she got admitted into a hospital? Damn right she almost died.

Have you ever wondered, when we end up in hospital, whether our arm gets amputated, or we simply caught a really bad flu, aren't they all signs of dying?

Okay, that sounds stupid. Never mind, just brush that off, pretend like it never happened.

But, wait. It actually does make sense. You see, when you get admitted into a hospital, it must be some sense of urgency, some sense of danger. No matter how big, or how small, all people who get admitted into hospital are in there for some serious business. Take for example: catching a really bad flu. It's bad, right? There you go! It's bad, it's serious. And if it is serious, it is a teenie weenie itty bitty sign, of death, of dying.

I'm not sure if you're following me but being admitted into a hospital shows some sort of deterioration in our health. And if you understand what i'm saying,  a deterioration in health means WE'RE DYING.

Does that make sense?

I mean, now that it all makes sense (just to me, maybe), it actually sounds a little scary. Catching the flu or having an amputated leg is a sign of dying. We've all been dying extremely slowly. Really slowly.

I ponder. What would it be like to die? Wait. That question has already been answered, because we're all dying. So there you have it! The question that scientists always ask. We have the answer! Dying is either painful, or uncomfortable - like a flu or an amputated arm.

What am I even thinking? Why does my inside voice have so much to say?

Wait. Oh cookies and biscuits. 

I am thinking.

I shake my head vigorously, and take a look of my surroundings. I'm on the road. I turn my head ever so slightly to the left, only to find myself a few inches away from a red Mercedes.

This is truly the end of me. I think I will really know the answer to how it feels like to die.

________________________________________________________________________________

Yesterday was really rough. Alex almost died from some dude punching him, I almost died from hiding in the closet, and I discovered that my depression is 100%, no, 500% real.

I look around the school campus and try to find Alex. However, no sign of the boy I made friends with 5 days ago, but literally became best friends in less than an hour.

Maybe he's outside. Maybe he's coming soon.

I don't know why, but the thought of him coming to school oh so very soon excites me. I dash out of the school as the beautiful and popular girls stare at me, questioning my actions. I make it out of the school, and stand beside a bush. I can't wait to see Alex again, and be grateful that he's not dead.

I wait and I wait. For how long, I don't know. All I know is that the bell is about to ring in 9 minutes and 17 seconds, so that boy better be here soon.

Ah! There he is, walking along the sideways, wobbling and looking half-dead. I mean, it's the morning syndrome, what can I say? I wave frantically at Alex, but he doesn't even look up.

"ALEX!" I yell, hoping to get his attention.

Nope. He didn't even respond. What a hostile kid he is.

I see that he is about to make it to the pedestrian crossing, but in the blink of an eye, he turns away, and faces the road. I notice that his eyes are semi-open, but semi-closed.

Worry builds up inside of me. 

He takes his first step onto the road, and I don't stop him. I assume he knows what he's doing. He is Alex after all.

As he is taking big strides across the road, my worry decreases inside of me. He's about halfway through the road. He'll be okay.

But all of a sudden, he stops, and stands over there in the road like that of a statue.

My worry shoots up.

And then, his head finally looks up, and he turns to his left, his eyes suddenly filled with life, However, it's not the good kind of life, it's the oh-god-I'm-going-to-die kind of life. I turn my head to see what he is looking at, only to see a dash of red drive past. I look back at where he was standing.

He was gone, lying there on the cement. A pool of blood surrounded him. 

I stood there, unable to do anything at all.

I could feel the tears coming, but nothing trickled down. My tears were always an illusion.

My depression takes over me. I can't do anything at all. Just, then the bell rings. Almost instinctively, I head back inside the school, as if nothing had happened.

As if Alex had not been hit by a car.

As if Alex was going to spring back to life and join me in class.

As if none of this even happened.

As if I was not about to cry in my head.

As if Alex was  not about to die.