I’d a dream of killing myself a few days ago. I tried. I tried my level best to do it. I looked at the clock hanging on the wall. It was 00:59 in the morning. I was heartbroken. I was all alone. I was in a mood to hide somewhere: an unknown place of seemly atmosphere which was completely exposed to nature, unbounded by any certainty in rules. I was astonished to accept my self as dumb enough to live in a busiest corner of the world. I was hoping for a change to happen while counting down my footsteps everyday; a change in me would have given a change in the whole new world, too; I was a part of your world as well. I was familiar regarding my absence in the same world a few days later; maybe an year or 2, after that I would remain as a memory in everybody’s mind; nobody would think of me unless and until they realize that once I existed here. I wasn’t a coward, but I was someone who smiled at others most of the times in a day even though I had forgotten to talk to them. I didn’t want to make them feel neither good nor bad about me. Why should I? Let them think of it.
I was never afraid of death; I believed on death as a constant follower of birth as nobody could escape from both, regardless whatever you’ve acquired thus far in life. I was quite nervous to die so though; would it pain a lot when I die?
I didn’t find anything wrong while preferring the choice of death. Hence I died. Although it’d given me too much of pain while the life-factor left from my physical body. I liked it once I was out from it. I looked at the clock hanging on the wall, again. It was 1 o’ clock in the morning. I walked in and around my room trying to remember something I’d forgotten- it’s my journal! I tried to take my journal which was kept under the pillow. But my head was resting upon the pillow. I tried to wake my body up so many times. I couldn’t do it as it was so heavy for me to raise up.
My journal! I promised myself earlier before and written down in the journal that I wouldn’t die. But I did. I’d to erase that “not” with “would” and make it “would”. That’s the only thing I wanted to do before I leave.
It started attracting me- my death! I’d been moving away from my journal. I couldn’t write it down anymore. I’m leaving… My time had come; I really wanted to stay here for completing it, or at least to erase that single world. It’s my time.. I didn’t want to… I’m leaving… With a sinuous scar of it.
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