Life After Death

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 31, 2016

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Submitted: July 31, 2016

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Life after Death

They told us nothing. Nothing about how life messes with you. Nothing about how people can be disappointing, and how disappointed you can be in yourself. All my life I never thought that I would wish to go back to the time I was on my own, feeling empty and invisible until I found myself at the top of a cliff. Everything happened so fast, and I did not know how it all came to this.

I was that thirty-five-year-old guy whom you do not notice on the street, whom you avoid at work during the coffee break, whom you do not know anything about. I was living my life as boring as ever, drowning in an endless routine, which implied work, food, couch, TV and sleep. I did not really have awful experiences, or suffered from anxiety when I was young to behave the way I did for the last ten years, but I guess I let myself go when my dad died five years ago, and I just did not really care after that. I already had struggled, as a little child with the death of my mom from breast cancer. I just did not want to think about my life. I had a job, an apartment, no family to visit, and no friends to hang out with. If you think about it like this, it looks pretty sad. Nevertheless, I was just in deny about my life for so long until life itself forced me to get out of it to finally wake up.

I went to work that day with the same outfit I would always wear on Monday’s, and with the same mind-set not caring about anything or anyone. I was driving my way to that boring workplace. The traffic was awful as every Monday morning, the people were all either having those fucked up faces after a long weekend break, the Monday hater faces, or the not giving a shit faces like me. Nevertheless, that day was starting on the wrong foot; I had a huge migraine, and a sense of hypoglycemia state coming on its way.

Once at work, I did the hypocrisy’s greetings to the guy keeping the door as if it was a secret place to guard, to the lady at the reception who looked as nearly happy as me to see her, and to the fake colleagues crew whom had their offices next to mine.

Why fake greetings if I don’t care at all would you think. Well, other people do not know how someone could not care at all, so if you seem like so; they will try to analyze your situation and find a “Solution” when really there is none. Thus, to stay in peace you have two choices, either live in a cabin in the woods, or fake it.

As time went by I was feeling more and more nauseous, I started thinking that the dinner I took yesterday, which was the rest of Thursday’s night was a bad idea after all. I could barely see and do my work correctly, so I decided to go to the bathroom and refresh my face a little bit. I was wiping my face when I saw that arrogant and narcissist dude going out the toilets. Please do not talk to me. Please just do not talk at all.

-Hey Jake! How are you man? Rough weekend Hein? I feel you.

- Hey Nick.

-Man it sucks to be back in this shit place, I was so great last night. I went home with two hot chicks. Damn it was so GREAT!

-Jake rolling his eyes. Good for you man!

And As I was trying to leave before Nick started to tell me about his whole weekend, I was barely walking normal, I started seeing darkness and stars, and before I could even hold the door I found myself on the floor surrounded by every guy working on that floor of the building. I fainted. They helped me go back to my place and sit on my chair. Even the boss worried about me; he came to me and told me to take the day off in order to see the doctor because it was not normal to faint like that. I was neither happy for the day off nor sad or worried about my health. I left the building with the sense of pity and jealousy from the other workers.

Once out I wasn’t feeling like driving, so I yelled “Taxi” and got in in the first cab that stopped. I was waiting for the doctor to receive me when I saw some health magazines all over the table; one had “Are You Depressed?” written on it and another had “How to differ between a usual sickness and a major one”. The receptionist got me out of the blur, so I went to finally see the doctor to found out what this whole thing was about. The doctor seemed a bit worried; he told me to do some tests as soon as possible to have the results and come see him again.

I was starting to feel concerned. Three days past, I did not faint again, but I still had that terrible migraine. Then, I finally received the results and went back to see the doctor. His face went white; it looked really serious. Indeed, I had a fucking lung cancer. I have never smoked anything my whole life, and I end up with a fucking lung cancer.

What luck in the world is that? I was feeling emptier but also as angry as ever. I wanted to shout, I wanted to cry, I wanted to hit something. Why couldn’t it just be a simple pressure drop or a normal migraine? Why me? I don’t smoke, I don’t harm people, I don’t do shit. I’m just leaving a boring life not caring at all about anything. Is this how life shows its way of being fair?

Now, I feel the people living in War-Zones. They did not do anything to start the war, they did not do anything to keep the war going, they just had the bad luck of being born in that War-Zone, and had no way out; just like me with my lung cancer.

I went out of the doctor’s office as if I was already dead. No facial expression, no feelings, nothing, just a dead walking body.

What would you do if you were 35 with six months left to live, and did not do anything in your life? No prestigious job, No family, No squad, no award, nothing. Well, first things first quitting that shitty job that you hate. Next thing, going to that open-mic café and finally having the guts to play guitar and sing one of my songs to a bunch of stranger in thirst of originality and awesomeness.

Wouldn’t it be easy to die in your sleep?

Wouldn’t it be easy to live in your dreams?

Or wouldn't it be easy to fly?

I looked up to the crowd; everyone was up and applauding. I couldn’t believe my eyes. For the first time in so many years, I felt truly happy. Some people came to congratulate me personally for my performance, and asked me about the next one because they wouldn’t want to miss it.

I came back home, and for a moment I forgot about cancer, about all the past years, about everything. I took my jacket, my wallet, my keys, and left. I went to that fancy restaurant I always wanted to go to, but was too greedy to spend so much money on food. God it tasted so delicious!

I walked my way out to the park near by, sat on a bench, and started looking at all the beauty around me. The people walking by were genuinely happy. Couples holding hands or hugging, parents laughing and playing with their kids, adolescent hanging out playing skateboard or rollers, people jogging and also an old grandma sitting on a bench and feeding the pigeons. These kinds of views used to disgust me, to make me sick, sometimes even depressed, but now it was just beautiful. Then, I realized what I have been missing all this years, the beauty in little things.

I took a paper and a pen, which I would always put on my jacket just in case I would feel inspired for writing, and started making a list.

-Visit mom and dad’s grave.

-Write more.

-Buy new clothes.

-Travel.

-Volunteer.

-Tattoo myself.

-Smile more.

-Be nice to people.

-Enjoy little things.

-Be happy.

Who am I fooling? Writing a bucket-list as if it was going to change anything. As if it could change the whole miserable life I had till now. As if it was going to make my last moment any better.

Who am I fooling? I am going to join my parents in six months. It's inevitable. Accomplishing something just now won't add up anything to my life. I'll better just end this whole thing myself! Why wait? I was alone and for the first time in my measly life I felt lonely.

It hit me. Depression. They say that it is a side effect of cancer. No, depression is a side effect of dying.

I've lost the slightest bit of desire in life. I've spent the last week in my apartment in the dark, feeding my body with one meal a day, and feeding my mind in low spirits. I was at my weakest, bringing back all the time I've wasted not caring at all, pushing people away and despising them, when I could've been happy with some good people around me for the better and for the worse. As of today, I try not to think about love or to what would've my life looked like if I had put myself out there sooner. Would I have kids? A girl? A boy? Both? How would my relationship with my wife be? Wonderful? Normal? Or Terrible?

I pulled the curtains in order to be dazzled by the sunlight, which would get me out of this fucked up state of mind, only to realize that the sky was as dark as my thoughts. My apartment was a mess; it started to smell with all the bags of ordered food, and my dirty clothes all over the floor. My guitar was hidden under all that mess; it's probably out of tune and with broken strings.

It's ironic how things sometimes reflect your own situation. Or maybe was it me that turned everything around me like this. As if dying inside out wasn't enough, it seemed like all things close to me would change from beauty to homeliness, from lovely to savorless, from shiny to darkness.

I took my keys and went for a drive to the highest cliff I knew near town. At that moment I did not know what I was going to do once there, I just knew that I had to get out of that apartment, to breath some fresh air, and to clear my mind.

I walked near the end of the cliff, and sat to look at the magnificent ocean view. It was dark, so you couldn't differ between the sky and the ocean until you see and hear the waves crashing over the rocks down the cliff.

Isn't it hopeless to be in front of such magnificence, but to feel pointless and downhearted as ever? Why wait? I'm dying anyways. 5 seconds or 5 months, it won't change anything in my case. I'd rather die here face to pure beauty than in a gloomy hospital. I'd rather fall in the ocean than fall in the last insanity stage of dying from cancer.

I stood up, took a long last fresh breath of air. I was ready to jump, when I saw some light behind me. I turned back; it was a bunch of adolescents came to hang out to smoke some weed, listen to all kinds of music and enjoy their teen. The light blinded me and I stumbled over a rock. I fell off the cliff. The fall felt like years in seconds like the sensation of falling in your sleep. It was dark.

I heard some kind of music, and felt sweet warm light of sunshine all over my body. It was 7:36am and I was late for work.

 

I woke up.

 

 


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