Maybe the Dead Ones Are Lucky
TW // suicide
You had spent months trying to figure out what to do with your life when you thought maybe the dead ones are lucky. They don’t have to worry about things like this.
This wasn’t the first time you thought that. You were 13 the first time. Your cousin had just died and you were sad. Not because of how much you loved your cousin, but because you wished it was you who had died.
You weren’t always like that. You were a happy child, or so you would like to believe.
You didn’t remember a lot from your childhood, but you remember wanting to be a pilot. You had plenty of toy planes, and you loved watching planes fly over your house. You fell from the balcony when you were seven and broke your arm. You hoped it was going to heal fast because you couldn’t be a pilot with a broken arm.
A year later, you and your family were travelling by air for the first time. You spent half the time crying because you were scared. You realised you couldn’t be a pilot.
You decided you were going to be an artist. After all, your Fine Art teacher kept saying you were the best in his class. You made your parents buy you art supplies that you ended up giving away because you wanted to be a dancer instead.
You got bored with dancing and decided that you were going to be a swimmer. You and your best friend took two swimming classes together. Two, because you almost drowned during the second one and never went back.
You are currently stuck at a job you hate. You can’t leave because you have no idea what to do next and you know your parents are done indulging you.
You don’t know what their problem is. After all, you are only 24 and their least problematic child. Who has their whole life figured out at 24 anyway?
You get tired of all the thinking. You finally decide that the dead ones are lucky and that you’re going to join them.
