The Last Page

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A janitor who is unhappy with his life finds the key to happiness.

Submitted: February 13, 2015

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Submitted: February 13, 2015

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~~The Last Page
The last day of my life has been both the best and the worst day. Everything about my life had been too normal up until now, too… boring. I was a school janitor and I undeniably hated it. Those children were just so ungrateful. I can’t even tell you how much gum I’ve had to scrape off of the bottom of their desks.
As a janitor I had gotten absolutely no respect. Just this morning, a group of kids rushed to the garbage I was about to empty and they flipped it over. Tissues, papers, broken pencils, and even some juice was spilled all across the carpet. When those little rats saw my face they all ran. Most of them had been laughing, one boy had been screaming. That had been the high point of my shift.
I worked from six in the morning until six at night. It was January and I rarely got to see the sun. For eight hours a day I had to suffer through the pain brought on by those cursed student. The rest of my shift was quiet. I should have quit long ago, now it was too late. I was a fifty seven year old man and this was the only job I have ever had.
The end of my shift was only a small relief. My car had broken down a few days ago and I still needed to get it fixed. So I would have to walk home, I didn’t live too far away. But it was far enough, and today it just happened to be snowing pretty hard. Great. After a long hard day of cleaning, all I wanted was to go home to my nice warm apartment, eat dinner, and go to bed. But of course, that wouldn’t happen. I finally made it home and found an old, faded notebook waiting for me on my doorstep.
It was impossible to tell what color it had been before, the stress of many years had made it an old yellow color. I picked it up to discover that the back page was falling off. Did one of those brat leave it here as a joke? If that was the case, I certainly didn’t get it. I opened it to see if there were any clues as to who might have left it here, but it was completely empty. Not a single letter had been written in the entire notebook. Someone must have thrown it away and the wind must have brought it to me. I was about to throw it away myself when I pricked my finger on the metal spiral.
A small bead of blood made its way to the surface of my skin before I wiped it on one of the notebook’s empty pages. I gasped, the paper that had been blank before, was now full of writing. I flipped through the book to find that the same was true for most of the pages. The magic writing wasn’t the strangest part though. What the writing spelled out was what made it incredible.
Within second the unoccupied notebook had transformed into a biography. Not just any biography either, it was all about my life. The writing went back as far as I could remember, one miserable day after another. It didn’t stop at the end of my shift, or even at me finding the book. The last page was of tonight, and it told of my death.
Now, I am sitting on my front doorstep just waiting. The shadows are all closing in around me, I tore out a few empty pages form the back of the notebook and started writing of this. I couldn’t be any happier. I didn’t write this as a plea for help, not so that people would know how I died. I wrote this to tell you about the best day of my life. It may be the last day, but the boredom is finally gone, the children won’t bother me, and I am no longer freezing in the winter air. Nothing could be better.


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