A Vida Barco

【6】

【6】

Faking my own death.
Easiest solution.
I could start over, without anyone from my old life bothering me.
No explanations, nothing. No one would ever know.

A whole new life. That's what I wanted.
I smiled at the thought of that, but soon, my happiness about this amazing plan vanished.
Could I actually do so?
First off, it was hard to do. I needed to die without a corpse to be found, and then how was I supposed to leave the country? And once I'd done that, how was I supposed to actually buy a house or anything?
Second, what about here? My home, all my stuff? I mean I had to leave everything behind me. Even the smallest things.
And my family. My parents.

Yes, it would be terribly egoistic to leave them after all they'd done for me. I'd miss them and my home, but was it actually my home?
I didn't feel home at all. I felt unhappy, I felt trapped. I couldn't even describe how I felt.
By just looking at all the materialistic stuff, leaving wouldn't be hard.
Maybe I would get over my friends, too. Maybe. After all, they were my friends and I kind of had a responsibility towards them.
But could I ever get over my parents? They were a huge part of my life.
Should I leave them? The more I thought about it, the more the idea of faking my death became unrealistic. But then, there still was the opportunity to do so.

I started to make up a plan, just theoretically, leaving aside the fact that I probably wouldn't do it anyway just because of the big loss I'd suffer from.

I needed to die without a corpse. The easiest way would be to jump from a bridge. A few years ago, I had heard that only 34 percent of people who committed suicide by jumping off of a bridge was found.
Nobody would question it, then.
Plus, the suicide needed to be clear so no further investigations would be done.
I could write a goodbye letter. For sure it would help myself, too. Maybe it could make me feel better and not that egoistic.

Maybe it justified my plans. At least to me. At least so, that I could live my new life without any bad feelings about my past.

Then, I would have to leave the country, with a fake ID of course, so that my name would never fall again.
I could travel to Mexico. Buy a new house there. And enjoy the rest of my life.
So far so good.

Of course, there were the details missing. For example how I could afford a house. People would be suspicious if they found out about money missing on my bank account, shortly before my death. 
I would have to figure that out for somehow, yet I didn't think about it further because faking my death actually was impossible for me.
I just couldn't leave everything behind.

A knock on the door made me look up. I groaned. Who would bother me now? Couldn't they leave me alone? At least for once?

I opened the door, looking at Ryan who leaned against my hauler.
"Hi", I said shortly at his wide grin on his face.
He wore sunglasses and his cap as usual.
"You're up for a fun night at the bar?", my friend asked grinning widely.

I rolled my eyes. God, I didn't want to. Why did he even ask me, like he didn't know how I'd been feeling the last few weeks.
In my head, I was running through excuses as Ryan took his sunglasses down.
"Come on", he whined, "we haven't been doing anything for ages".

I sighed.
"I'm not feeling well, sorry"
I for sure didn't. It wasn't even a lie or an "excuse", it was the truth actually.
Ryan just raised his eyebrow.
"Seriously?", he asked, obviously disappointed.
I just nodded, running my hand through my hair nervously.
"You look fine to me", he said. His voice didn't sound angry, but quite ticked off though.
"I didn't know that you can see now how a person is feeling", I replied.
"You know what I meant." Yes. Definitely annoyed.

"No, I don't", I said. "I don't feel well, sorry. Maybe next time"
"Next time, next time", Ryan repeated, "you said next time last week, too. And the week before. And the month before. Are you avoiding me?"

He looked angry, but also a bit desperate.
Dang, what was I supposed to say now?
I didn't avoid him, I just wanted to be on my own. Well, actually I did avoid him, but not only Ryan, everybody.

"I'm not. I can't help it, Ryan, I'm feeling bad for months", I tried to explain, rather half-hearted.
"Is it because of what you've told me a few days ago?", He asked demanding.
I shrugged.
"God, you're a drama queen", my best friend snickered, crossing his arms.
What? What was he saying now? I laughed bitterly.
"Whatever", I said as I wanted to close the door, but Ryan squeezed himself between.

"You're exaggerating. You know what I think? You're just desperate because you haven't won a Cup race and now your overreacting. Seriously, everybody would want to have the life you're living and you're acting like if it was the worst"
He wasn't screaming, but his voice raised.
To be honest, his words made angry. I thought he was my friend and that he would understand me.

I wanted to say something, but Ryan didn't leave me. He continued, and it hurt.
"There are people in Africa or wherever, fearing death, and you're unhappy with what you're having?
You leave your fans down, you leave your team down, you leave your friends down"

He was right. I did leave them down. But what could I do?

"You know what people are saying in the paddock about you?"
Wait, they were talking about me?
"I honestly don't care, Ryan", I muttered, too tired to argue with him.
"They say that you've become too arrogant to care. And to be honest, I thought the same until you've been talking to me. But now I'm unsure of what to think. You're just ungrateful"

How could he call me ungrateful? For somehow, I was for sure, but it wasn't like I didn't appreciate what I got. It just wasn't what I wanted.
I shook my head slowly and then looked up at him.
"Wow", I managed to say, "you really don't know me at all"

We just stared at each other for a moment, until I walked to the door and opened it for him.
"I'm not feeling well. Like I said. It's an illness called ungratefulness", my pert tone underlining how ticked off I was.

Ryan gave me a smug look before he left.

I fell on my bed, embracing the silence around me.
What were my thoughts considering my friends? I couldn't fake my death because of them? Apparently, I didn't.
They didn't care about me, so what?

Faking my death so was realistic.

.

Sorry for long time no update. But here I am, with Chapter 6.
I've been very busy, I'm so sorry.
As always, please leave behind a vote or a comment and if you didn't enjoy my story, tell me why!
Hope you keep up!