100 years wasted in 26 minutes

I woke up with a soft distant pain somewhere i could only identify as my chest.I laid quietly, half asleep, tired sick of living and craving the sweet release of death. I can't see anything, in general and in this moment. I stare at the ceiling only moving when my chest would move up and down as to breathe because ya know i need air to breathe and shit. What honestly felt like 15 minutes but was apparently 2 hours(when your 99 3/4 ‘s years old you remember things) due to the sunlight beginning to scatteredly beam into my room causing the room to somewhat light up. I sigh as to this is my natural alarm clock and I should get up or i probably won't for at least 5 hours more. Certain traits and habits never left me(unlike my husband) like staying up all night but being able to wake up before 7 (school started at 7:30) was here to stay.

I sit up looking around at blurred shapes around me but at this point, I know where everything is. In front of my bed is my wooden dresser i found at a local yard sale when my old one broke. I couldn't move it myself due to old age and maybe not breaking toothpicks i called my bones. So i had one of my grandsons come help me bring it to my house. I remember sitting at the end of the bed while he moved it as well all my clothes from the first dresser to the new one. Then he hugged me and never came back since.that was 5 months ago and if im honest. I never liked the little bitch anyways. He always took 4 cookies which left 2 grandkids with nothing so i would have to make more. Anyways i know families aren't perfect but I like to dream.

I look over to my nightstand ive had since 1972 when I first moved here with my husband who then years after left me then died. That's what the bastard gets. I reach over for my glasses expecting them in the place i've put them for the past 24 years and surely there they are. Once my glasses are on, all the shapeless blobs in my room grow detail into furniture and other miscellaneous objects. I look over again to my clock set by my desk. It was originally an alarm clock but the alarm stopped working ages ago so it's just a clock that read 6:24.

“Huh 7  more minutes” I softly mumble to myself. How shall I spend this time. Should i spend it doing something worthwhile?productive?or nothing? What should i even do once I turn 100. With my loved ones?But they never visit. Or maybe knitting?Ugh why is turning old so depressing. I wish i was 12 again when my biggest worries were my period. 

I look over again, now laying down in my bed.The clock read 6:26.What 5 more minutes. As if the sight of the clock suddenly made my bones weaker or harder, i felt a sore pain spread throughout my body as I fully lay down admitting defeat.I try to close my eyes in case that will help. It didn't but hey now i can finally escape this goddamn hell we call earth. My generation might have contributed to global warming but we didn't know better.Again a raging pain, runs through my body making distinctive jabs towards my arms and legs. This one seems worse than before and it might get worse. God why me. Why did no one tell me age gets this painful. It feels like i'm back in labor all over again. Finally, one last pain takes me away as I close my eyes in defeat. My body relaxes as i start to feel distant.

I open my eyes one last time to turn to my clock that finally read: 6:31.I close my eyes once again satisfied. I did it. I got to 100.The pain eased itself away while I was taken to a completely different place to how I was feeling in the past 25 minutes. Memories of family members, grandkids, and even my childhood come racing past as I start to get dizzy just looking, or well thinking about it. I stop. It's peaceful.Soft.Quiet.Huh, i can live with this.yea this will be nice.