It’s Been A Month Since I Died
Is Death Really The End Though?
It’s been a month since I died.
Mum cried a lot. She’s still barely speaking.
Fs was also upset at me. We were supposed to go to college together, but I had to resign.
She met a new friend yesterday. They’re getting along well. I’m happy for her. She deserves to be happy.
I don’t think she’ll go to prom tomorrow. If I were alive, we would’ve burst out songs and got ready together. I’m sad she has to miss this.
Dad’s leave ends tomorrow. He has to go back to work.
Brother will also resume his school next week. They say they understand, but he can’t have any more holidays.
Do they... Understand?
Everyone reserved a post for me on Instagram, reminiscing our good old days. Half of the posts were archived today.
They say I was a good person. Why do they say that though? I’m not a good person. I did all this.
It’s weird how little everything matters now.
How little I matter now.
I roam a bit more in the nothingness. The sun shines its rays on me, yet I feel no heat.
I sink my feet in the grass without any fear of the bugs stinging. Can they even sting my skin anymore though? Do I even have skin?
I even got new flowers twice last week.
Everything’s going back to normal.
Everyone’s going back to normal.
Maybe in another life I would’ve fought harder.
But in this one, the war is finally over.
Just a random thought I had. Fs is my best friend if anyone's wondering.
