I Lived The Day I Died: A Narrative Fiction
I stare mindlessly at the piece of rope that lay on my hands. I could feel my sweat dripping from my forehead; my mouth is so dry that I could barely swallow. Everything was already planned— the hook that I would tie the rope in and the chair that I would stand on and kick as I surrender everything to whatever that is that exists in the afterlife. I've never been a holy person; I live by my own set of rules. Did the possibility of being nothing but a void after dying scare me? Maybe... but not enough to get me to worship a God and fool myself into believing in Nirvana or heaven.
I fidget with the rope in my hands as I slowly tie it into the knot that I have practiced for months. The shaking of my hands and the sweat that has piled up my forehead made it harder for me to do so. I look at my phone hoping for someone to persuade me otherwise.
Get yourself together, you've practiced this over a thousand times, I think to myself. After what seemed like forever I finally managed to tie the rope into the perfect knot that will end my life. It's crazy how something as shallow as a piece of fiber could easily cease something as complex as human life.
I step on the wooden chair beside me and hook the rope. I took a deep breath as I hold the rope under my chin, closing my eyes and basking the last few minutes of my life. All I have to do now is kick this chair and everything ends. I cease to exist. I no longer am a nuisance to everyone I know. I liberate myself from all my troubles. So I did. I could feel the rope enclosing around my neck(.) My vision is getting blurry. The noise from outside now replaced with static. This is it. I have finally done what I always wanted. Suddenly, everything is black. Nothing. Just a blank void, an empty space.
I open my eyes and feel the cold ground my body is laying on. I could see the chair I stood on minutes ago in front of me. What? I thought I killed myself already. I look up and see myself hanging lifelessly on the rope. Suddenly, a bang from outside the door surprised me. It's my parents, I could hear Mom screaming at me to open the door. I walk towards the door and turn the knob but it doesn't budge. I remember I am nothing but a damned soul. The door breaks open and I see my little sister stare at the corpse hanging in the middle of the room, naive from the seriousness of the situation. My mom faints at the sight of me and my dad calls for an ambulance, but it's too late. I already decided for myself. I watch my family breakdown in front of me.
Out of nowhere, I feel a sense of remorse. Why? This is what I wanted. Suddenly, every single problem that I had seemed so minuscule. It felt as if everything could easily be solved. It was as if a wave of divinity washed over me. I regret it. I regret killing myself. I regret even thinking about ending my life. But it's too late, the damage has been done. My eyes forcibly close themselves and I struggle to keep them open, grasping for whatever life is left in me but I fail.
I open my eyes again and see the same chair in front of me. I look up expecting to see my body hanging but I see nothing. I realize that the rope is still tied around my neck but it ripped from the hook. I pinched myself, making sure that I was really alive, flesh and all. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs fighting for dear life.
Isn't it ironic that this moment is the most alive that I have felt in my whole life?
I stood up and for the first time in forever I did the unthinkable, I lived.
DISCLAIMER: Multimedia used belong to FX Channel, producers of American Horror Story and Evan Peters. Story originally written by yours truly with inspiration from Netflix’s original film, To The Bone.
