Chapter 1; Happy Birthday, Little Bird

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Today.

August 7.

The day I turn seventeen, the day I die.

Today.

I couldn't think about anything else; not like there actually was something else for me to think of. I've been preparing this for months already, and it finally came. It was almost unbelievable to me that I was actually going forward with it. I didn't care. I guess I kind of expected myself to be thrilled or something but I was just numb. Though the knowledge that I wouldn't live past today left me light and it was exactly how I wanted it to be like.

I know. I know I sound stupid. I don't care. I know, I'm an asshole, I know I suck, shut up about it. I don't feel bad about it, you know? I don't feel bad, I know I'm selfish blah blah blah. I know. I think about this day every day, I considered every other option and yet neither seemed as appealing as this. I know.

My notebook, my favourite sweater. Pills, blades. I was finally there. Maybe it was just my luck but today was actually Friday. A day that I had the luck to spend alone. Hey, I don't mind.

I do. Don't tell my brain that.

"Bye-bye, arsehole!" Max yelled out at me from distance, making me turn around. I rolled my eyes, raising up my middle finger to him.

"Fucking dick," I muttered under my breath but he probably knew I was cussing at him.

He only chuckled. I wonder how he'll react when he realises that this was the last thing he would say to me. It doesn't matter. I don't mind. Dan was chuckling beside him, waving at me too. I did the same. Both of them turned around and left me behind to go home. It was my turn to turn around and leave so I did.

These dudes were... good dudes. A little awful at times with their stupid jokes and their stupidly obnoxious attitude that annoyed me like fucking hell, but they're overall good dudes. I hoped they would make it in life. Maybe they'll remember me, too. I don't know. I didn't want to dwell on that. I didn't want to dwell on anything.

I didn't go home. No. Listen, I know I'm an arsehole. I'm not an inconsiderate arsehole though. If I'm going to kill myself, the last thing I need is my sister finding me or my parents. I didn't need to traumatize them like that. I'm stupid but not that stupid. So I left.

I took the route that crossed my house. I know, I just said I wouldn't go home, but I had to do something before I left. So I walked, passing by houses and cars and people and passing by life. It all seemed so different though. I knew I wouldn't be seeing things like that again, I knew I wouldn't see a dog again or a cat or a person, I knew all of this would never be stared at by me nor would all of this ever stare back at me so maybe it was that knowledge that made things so different. It was sort of a nice change, too.

When you hear that someone is heading to their death, you probably imagine them crying. Maybe sobbing, maybe fighting, maybe scared. That wasn't me. I was peaceful actually, in a way I had never been before. The thought of death and I had made a truce.

I know I'm stupid and cringy, shut up.

It was funny because today was also a sunny day. Few clouds hovering above here and there, gently and carelessly floating to wherever the fuck the wind took them. I wish I could be like that. No, not really. I'm gonna die anyway so what does that matter?

I still can't believe the day has come. It's such a surreal thought but it surely feels fucking great.

Minutes after and my home was at sight. My god. I'm gonna miss this.

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