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

A super short story about a super important decision.

Submitted: September 13, 2018

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Submitted: September 13, 2018



Yesterday by peachjam

You kill yourself a little bit every day. It does not have to be sad, it is just a fact. You do it, I do it, even your loved ones do it. That is, eventually, how you end up in the grave. We might have a long way to go. But then again, you never really know do you? As you age, you die. By the age of 55, your body really starts to kill itself. But that does not mean you do not die a little bit every day. Bit by bit, piece by piece. 

Yesterday I was sitting by my beloved window, in my tiny studio apartment. The apartment was painted this ridiculous pale orange color by the previous tenant. It is not exactly legal to paint other people's properties, but I did promise my landlord to paint over it sometime myself. Not that I think the landlord truly cares, the building is a mess. Leaking faucets, thin walls and the occasional mouse in the basement. It has become kind of a running gag between tenants in my part of the building. My upstairs neighbor, Chris, decided that we call the mouse Pete. My apartment has this crooked door, not something you notice when you first lay your eyes on it. When you first see it however, you cannot un-see it. 

But, back to yesterday. I decided to kill myself. A version of myself anyway. I decided to kill the me, you once swore you loved ever so dearly.  

As I got up from my favorite spot by the window to make my way to the chipped white (slightly coffee stained) coffee table to pick up my phone to text you to take me back one more time, I heard a loud thud followed by a cloud of dust escaping from the wall near my dresser. My next-door neighbor, Kimmy, was fighting with her boyfriend again. Everyone knew when they were fighting, because of the paper-thin walls. You can make out some words that they are saying. Not all of them, which is good.  

That was when I made my decision. As much as I like Kimmy as a person, I do not want to be that miserable. And I admit, I was headed that direction full speed. 

I picked up my pinkish faux fur coat off one of my three coat hangers and opened the door. That was the last time yesterday-me was seen in my apartment. 

Without looking back, I decided to take yesterday-me out of one last walk through the beautiful city that is Amsterdam. However, upon further investigation, it turned out when I reached the last flight of stairs I could just make out the weather behind the glass window at the bottom of the stairs. It was pouring rain. But what else was I to do? I wanted yesterday-me to see everything one last time. So, I took a deep breath and opened the door, and went out into the pouring rain. I put one foot in front of the other. Usually I listen to music with my black headphones, but yesterday I chose to walk to silence in a city of noise. 

When I finally made to Dam Square, it was quiet. Just a few cars passing by, but no people. I started to hear footsteps, not necessarily approaching, but there. My cheeks and nose tip were now pink and cold, freezing even. My mind left my body for a moment and it was as if you were there with me, with us. As if at any moment I would see the city lights bounce off the rain on your face, and dance in the reflection of the gaps between the cobblestones. As if I was not the only one getting my feet wet. 

 I suppose it was a good thing, I felt your presence yesterday. I wanted her to say goodbye. 

If you met the me I am now, would you still brush me off like the dirt on your shoulder? Or would you lie? Which I should know by now, you do flawlessly. I bet you would like the me I am today. She's still me, but she holds herself up, rather than having you do so. Or anyone else for that matter. But the only me you know, and the only me you will ever know, is yesterday-me.  

I have never felt more alive since I killed myself yesterday. 

© Copyright 2019 peachjam. All rights reserved.

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