Day 𝟭:
You died— people regret the choices they've done with you. They start to wonder
"what if we did something he actually wants, maybe he would've felt happy too.."
But at night, that sadness fades. They cook for everyone, hiding their pain.
Day 2:
People are drinking, people are laughing, some are even gambling—trying their fate. But there's one person in the crowd, staring at your body— they wonder why you did that, isn't it funny?
Day 3:
Fewer people attended your funeral, the only reason they could find was because they don't know you—but in reality, they never tried.
Day 4:
It's only your family now. You see them laugh, you see them cry, you see them leave everything behind.
Let's skip day 5-39, because that's when people forget—they forget all the things that filled them with regret. They move on, but not for the better. They moved on because they saw your letter.
In that piece of paper, you wrote:
"Dear everyone,
if you're reading this—I am gone. Don't feel sad, feel relieved. After all, you wouldn't be dealing again with one more kid. All I want to say is, you've all mattered to me— especially Salish. Mom, dad— take care of yourselves. Drink your medicine on time, don't forget to ask for help. I love you sis, do better than me. Make it to the time where you can show our parents your degree. I'm sorry everyone, please don't feel grief. Just think I'm a bird that has been set to be free. I've struggled a lot, especially with change. I just can't help it with all of these things starting to fade. I hope you remember me, even after all these years, I just hope I'm not the reason you are in tears. I bid you farewell. "
After they see what you expect of them, they hide their feelings away. But then— a girl walks in, her name was Angeline; she kept muttering
"why did you do this?..."
You want to comfort her, but you can't. Because at the end of the day, you're now a spirit who who's bounds are tied by the rope of fate. Looking at everyone, you feel regret. Maybe this is not the answer to all of your problems. But things have been done—things have been said. You close your eyes, waiting for time to pass on. And you start to wonder,
"am I really that wrong? "
