I wait at the bus stop. Its 4 PM. Tonight is the night that I die. The bus turns down the road, pointing its nose at me. My heart is racing. I’m relieved that its coming to an end, but I’m scared of ending it. 6 PM is my final hour. I have to be ready. I’m not ready.
I get on the bus. It smells like piss and regret. There are three other people on the bus. The second looks up at me and smiles. The first looks out the window. The third is asleep. I sit down near the back of the bus. The very back is taken up by Amazon boxes. I pull out my phone. 3 new messages from 2 people. One is my mom, she wants me to fix her TV again. The others are from my friend Katie. She wants me to message her. She’s worried because of my last post on Tumblr. I was vague posting again. I shouldn’t, it makes Katie worried. I should tell her I’m fine. I’m not going to. If I talk to her, she might talk me out of it. I hope she’ll be okay after I’m gone. I’m sure she will. She’ll realize how bad I was for her. How much happier she would be with someone else as their friend. The third man walks up with a sneeze. The first adjusts in his seat. The second is scrolling on TikTok. I wonder when they will die. They all look old. They’re all older than me. They all will die after me. That gives me some comfort.
The third man shouts, “God damn it!” and pulls the string above him.
The bus screams to a halt.
“Missed my fucking stop, God-fucking-damn-it!!”
He seems angry.
I open Tumblr. I have dozens of notes. Dozens more than usual. People are worried about me. They shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t have vague posted. I know better than to share my thoughts with others. More people to try and stop me. I close the Tumblr app and open Reddit. I scroll down the length of a football field, trying to find anything at all to interest me. I can’t find anything. I pull out my earbuds. I try to play my music, but it comes out of the speaker. My heart sinks. I pause it as fast as I can. I try to figure out why my earbuds aren’t connecting. I’m such a fucking idiot. I’m sorry everyone. They can’t hear my thoughts. I don’t know why I apologized. I’m stupid, that’s why. A stupid fat bitch. And I’m ugly, too. I’m a festering slut. My body is wasted. I should shower before I die. I don’t want to smell that bad. I pull down the settings panel on my phone. Bluetooth is turned off. I turn it on. My earbuds won’t connect. I’m such a fucking idiot. I’m a waste of space, I shouldn’t exist. Its okay. I’m gonna be gone soon. I can relax. The world won’t have to suffer me for more than—let me check the time. Its 4:30. The world will only have to suffer me for another hour and a half. Is that right? God, I hate math. Okay, its 4:30 now, I am going to be dead at 6. 1 hour from now is 5:30, so an hour and a half is 6. Okay, I was right. Good. The world will only have to suffer for another hour and a half. Or, lemme check. Hour and 29 minutes. I’ll be gone soon. Its okay. I restart my earbuds. They connect. I open Spotify and put on my vibes playlist on shuffle. Black and White Eyes by Syd Matters. I love this song. I put it on repeat. I want this to be the last song I ever listen to. I only have to listen to this song. I want my body to be found with this song still on loop. Its my favorite song. I wonder how many people have died listening to Syd Matters. Would I be the first? I hope I’m not. Or maybe I hope I am. Syd Matters might not like to know that people have died to their song. I hope they never find out in that case. Or if they would think it was cool, I hope they do. I hope whoever knows I died and also knows them knows them well enough to know to tell them or not. I look out the window. I can see the water from here. Baltimore harbor is so pretty. Okay its not, but I love it. I used to fish off the harbor with my dad. I didn’t like it at the time. I wish I had liked it. I want more time with him. I’m glad he won’t know I died. I wish my mom didn’t have to know I died. It’ll be okay. She’ll be happier in the end. Everyone will be. Momentary sadness leading to endless joy. My stop is coming up. I pull the string. The bus stops. Its time to get off. I’ll be home soon.
I check my phone. Its 4:50. I’ll be dead soon. I have a bit of a walk to get home. I hope I get home in time. I should. It usually doesn’t take that long. Maybe half an hour at most. Yeah, I have plenty of time. I’m kind of getting sick of Black and White Eyes. I keep listening to it anyway. I’m committed to this being my last song. My feet hurt. I wish I had a car. I could be home by now if I had a car. I wish I had gotten my license before I died. People would have taken me more seriously I think. It doesn’t matter I guess. I’ll be dead; what people think or don’t think about me isn’t really my concern anymore. I close my eyes. Sigh. I open them.
I am home. I check my phone. 5:55. I have 5 more minutes to live. I climb the steps of my apartment to the third floor. I unlock my door. I walk into my apartment. Its cold. The thermostat says that its 68 degrees in here. Its close to a hundred degrees outside. Global warming, I guess. I check my phone. Its 5:57. Almost time. I go into my bedroom. I grab the Lexapro out of my drawer. I look into the mirror. I’m still fat and ugly. But at least everyone else will be freed from my fat, ugly face. I down the entire bottle.
Times up.
I lay in bed. I check my phone. Its 5:59. I’ll be dead in one minute.
Time is still passing, I’m still awake.
I hear a knock on my door. Damn it.
I hear the door open. I forgot to lock it. Fuck.
Its Katie, she’s in my room.
She’s grabbing me. She’s picking me up. Woah, she’s stronger than I thought she was.
She says we’re going to the hospital, but I’m starting to fade. Feeling dizzy. I’m losing consciousness. I’m—
I’m in the hospital. I check for my phone. Its not there. I'm in a hospital gown. My hands are bound tight. The doctor comes in. He breaks the news to me. Its been 4 days.
God damn it. I’m still alive. The world will have to deal with me for a little longer.