Tearfully, I gather all my things and set everything in the right place. Who would’ve thought that this would be the end. “It failed,” they said. “Your body won’t take it anymore.” I never believed the day would come this soon. I believed I was stronger; I was wrong.
I fill the tub as high as I could, listening to the warm water pour in like a waterfall. I stand exposed to the air, crippled and withered, and I just stare at the water. Just do it now, I whisper. You’re gonna leave soon anyway. I take a step, then bow down into sobs as the weakness consumed me.
It’s hard for someone to fathom that they’re going away forever. Where will I go? What will happen after I’m gone? Will all my memories disappear? Will anyone remember me? What will I become?
I hear soft music downstairs. A quiet melody. I follow the music to see my mother in a black dress and flowers placed on the couch. She embraces me tightly.
This is my final goodbye.
cooked up by vision+voice
