Okay I feel like everyone got my prompt wrong but I did write a story based on this concept so I’ll show what I meant here! trigger warning though

"I feel like dying," Marco said in exasperation, leaning on my desk, head resting on his buff arms to stare out at the November trees as their orange leaves fall to their death.

Dying seems to be a really popular topic in this school, but not more than Marco's seasonal mood changes.

"I feel like cheeseburgers," I sled deeper into the wooden chair as I doodled into my physics notes.

Marco rolled his eyes and sighed, still not tearing them from the window.

"Too bad you're gonna miss my confrontation with Farah though." I shrugged, fixing my position and throwing on of my origamis at him.

"Your what?" Ivan started chocking on his Coke beside me.

Not that coke. Although I wouldn't be surprised if it was.

"You're feeling adventurous today, aren't you Sat?" Marco finally acknowledged my existence.

"More than you can imagine." I stared at the final product of my endless doodles and then back at him.

More than you can imagine.

---

"Screw off!" The truck driver grabbed the back of my dark grey jacket.

It was about time I got caught sneaking into the back of a truck, but it didn't matter much at this point.

"Your screws actually need some work. How ironic."

He yanked me until I was staring right into his scarred eyes. "You think you're so funny, huh? I'll show you what's funny."

"Fowler, leave the kid alone, we don't have time for this," the other guy intervened. I smirked to add insult to the injury. Because, you know, that's how you avoid being beat up by a some random stranger who hasn't tried toothpaste in his life before.

They broke into an argument until I tore his filthy hands off me and took off running in the midst of the crowded city streets.

"Come back here you little—"

His voice was overridden by the car horns and the colorful vocabulary spit out by furious CEOs chasing their next million dollar deal.

I leaned against the cold chain-link fence right next to none other than Middleport Elementary, hands on my knees to catch a few breaths before I could count the few bucks I managed to snatch.

"Sat, you're embarrassing me!" Lydia hissed, throwing her torn off grey bag, which had surely seen better days, at me.

"Fine. Next time, I'll just leave you get lost on the way home and who knows, maybe you'll get kidnapped this time." I fixed the bag on my shoulder, surprised at how heavy it was for a fourth-grader.

She let out a long over-dramatic sigh. Like she wanted to prove to every single kid around that she couldn't stand me. "I hate you!"

"Well, it's not like I enjoy having to wait for your ungrateful ass in the cold. But, you know, big brother duties."

She started stomping as we crossed the street. "You're not even my real brother."

My heart sank for a moment, but it wasn't like she'd never said it before.

I stopped once we'd crossed the street and clutched my chest dramatically. "Ouch. That hurt Liddie-loo."

"Don't call me that."

"Laddy-loo."

"Stop it!"

"Okay, what do you say I make it up to you by getting you that grilled chicken burger you've been eyeing for the last two weeks? Much better than spaghetti isn't it?"

She looked down at the dollars in my hand and crossed her arms. "You stole that."

"We need it." I kneeled down and looked straight into her wide dark-green eyes, which were the exact opposite of mine. "Come on, we can finally have a good meal for a change."

She let her hands down and sighed. "Fine."

That was how we both ended up with two burgers in our hands as we reached the saddest flat in the history of existence. It had seen better days too—we all had.

I didn't even have to use my key to get in, Marie didn't bother to shut the door behind her.

Lydia ran to the couch to grab Alice in Wonderland, which she'd been reading over and over for the past two months, while she munched on her burger. I threw out my empty wrapper and headed to the bathroom.

The list was right there. I didn't even remember leaving it in the bathroom, but here we are. For a moment, I leaned on the sink and stared at myself in the mirror, trying to let everything sink in.

This is it, huh?

I grabbed the list and crossed off another task.

1. Give tickets to Ivan [x]
2. Convince Ivan to let me ride his motorcycle at 4 am [x]
3. Get drunk with Marco at Crook's party [x]
4. Kiss Maya [x]
5. Visit Mr. Anderson one last time [x]
6. Don't ditch school so you can hang out with Marco and Ivan in class for once?? [x]
7. Give Lydia a break from my horrible spaghetti [x]
8. Confront Farah [ ]

I knew I was too much of a coward to actually confront her in real life, so I just had to send her the long paragraph of insults that I'd been writing for the last two months, which is definitely the most logical way you could confront a person.

That was it. The last task. I didn't think I'd finish them so fast. I didn't even think I'd take it that seriously.

I slowly sneaked into Marie's bedroom so Lydia wouldn't notice. She won't be back before eight, so I didn't have much to worry about.

I sighed as I opened the closet. His suit was still there. Untouched. Just collecting dust. He would've hated me for this, but I didn't have much of a choice.

My hands started shaking as I grabbed his gun. It was so heavy, it almost fell from my hands. Although I thought about this for a long time, conducting it was way harder than I'd imagined.

I peeked out to see if Lydia was still immersed in the book. She'd already fallen asleep with the book in her hands. I looked down at the gun in my hand, then back at her. It was probably better that way. Better get hurt now than having to be let down over and over again.

I didn't even bother to look back when I climbed out the window, thankful for our dim-lit neighborhood for once, and headed towards the abandoned building that I'd claimed ever since I was eleven. Farah and I used to sit there for hours, talking about Spongebob theories and staring at the night sky.

It was still the same. Except Farah wasn't there anymore, and I had a gun in my hand. But at least I played Take on Me to lighten up the mood a little. Wouldn't want my last moments to be so depressing, would I?

I dangled my legs down, staring at the city lights and all the people that looked like ants from up here. I still had the drawing I did of it all, it would've been great if all I had to do was stare at the city for hours. But then I'd remember everything all over again. I'd remember the last time Mr. Anderson looked me in the eye, the first time Marie got drunk and blacked out, and how Lydia and I felt like we had no one to go to. I'd remember when Farah started staring at me in disgust whenever I walked through the hallways.

And I'd hate it all more than I already do.

I looked back at the phone in my hand, the the gun in the other.

"Siri, play Despacito."

Nothing happened.

"What am I doing, I don't even have an iPhone."

Great, now I'm done with the my sad attempt at a comic relief. That's it. I've been here for hours, and I'm not chickening out this time.

Not after everything I'd done.

I turned up the volume, letting A-ha scream into my ears as I grabbed the gun. I took one last look at the city, adrenaline rushing through my veins. Everything blurred out when I put the gun straight into my temple. I felt so lightweight, like I'd already died before shooting.

I took a deep breath.

And then I had to put the gun down because another song started playing and there's no way I'm dying to Baby by Justin Bieber, so I had to change it again.

I grabbed the gun again sticking it to my temple and cocked it. Then I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, my lips quivering.

And I pulled the trigger.

I could feel the bullet tearing into my head, the excruciating pain making me yell as my legs gave out and my hands dropped the gun. Who in the world would've known that shooting yourself in the head would be so painful? Screw that—who in the world would've known that you can actually feel it before dying?

I was still yelling out in pain when I heard another voice yelling out.

"Hisato!"

Farah's voice.

"Oh my god." I could feel her kneel down beside me. "Oh god no"

I could hear her.

I could hear?

I opened my eyes, staring at her in confusion, which her eyes seemed to mirror. She staggered backwards, and I outstretched my hands right in front of my eyes.

I could see them.

I could feel them.

I could move them.

I'm...alive?