Epitaph

The horizon has always been beautiful - a meeting point between heaven and earth, sky and everything that’s on terra firma. I stared at the crimson hues painted by a disabled across the sky, because at that moment, after degenerating alone for many years, immersing myself in nature’s grandeur was the only thing I could do.

I held up my right wrist; it was a broken wreck. Since the day some of my classmates woke me up to reality, I wore the black wristband knitted by Angela, with the words “BE STRONG!” and a cute smiley hovering beside it. I wore the band over my scars, scars I tried to forget, scars I tried to hide - scars that remind me of the excuse I made to leave the world.

I stood up then, on top of this lovely Purple Hill, surrounded by the epitome of serenity, broken only by the tiny insects and the hush of the winds. I looked up high to the sky, invoking God’s name, invoking the names of every god and goddess and deity I knew, but all that responded was the loud chirping of a sparrow. The common sparrow.

It didn’t cross my mind before, but I wondered about the worlds of stories made. Every written tale, every word shaping the essence of a character, every prose defining the beauty of a setting, do they live on for eternity? Do they inherit the writing of the authors, and live on in a separate world, past their dead-end endings?

Do they compose their own beginnings of their ends, do they continue their epilogues, the alpha of their omega?

As such, will I live on in the memories of my family and friends in an epitaph? Will the gamut of phrases redefine me as a human being as a whole?

If so, wouldn’t death be nothing but an abrupt ending, written by the hands of my Creator? Wouldn’t I… live on then?

I stood up higher, climbed on the bark of the dead tree lying on the ground, stood higher. My vision was blurred by the tears in my eyes, and I walked forward. I walked. The ground was declining 80 metres before I touched ground, and.. everything looked so small. So tiny.

With strong velocity, I fell and impacted on planet Earth.

---

I woke up in a blindingly grey room, decaying. My limbs were in casts, but I saw the familiar smiley on my legs grinning back at me. Next to it, the same phrase “BE STRONG!” reminded me how I failed to do so.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Random story I wrote to kill boredom and random depression. All names in this fiction may or may not be coincidences.