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  I sit in the kitchen. Two hours. All I have left is for two hours. It got it from the mail ten hours ago. Man, I wished I had checked to mail sooner. Did I have to sleep until noon? Did I? God, I'm so mad at myself. 

  The letter said 


  Jake, we regret to inform you but as of 12:00 Am on February 25, 2018, you have 24 hours to live until your death date February 26, 2018. 


 Ever since the war that united every country together, we had some serious population control. Every other week they send out a letter to 100 underperforming, over 18 years old, unwed, and childless people. Unfortunately, I am one of them. 

  My name is Jake. I'm 25 and I work in a fast-food chain. I don't attend college. I have no partner and or child. So, of course, the country can do without me. I just wish they could give a heads up letter like Hey man maybe get some girl pregnant or something because we are about to kill you in like a month or so. I mean that's fair. However, that's not how our government does things.

  So now I'm sitting at my kitchen table with two hours to go getting ready to cook my final meal. All alone. I'm all alone. I'm disposable. My parents died in a car crash and I have no siblings. Most people nowadays don't have many friends anyway. Kids nowadays have their classes on their phones. So yeah, I guess it's pretty much everyone for themselves. 

  I couldn’t afford anything fancy so I’m just going to make a classic Peanut butter and jelly sandwich with chips. I get the plate and stuff the make the sandwich ready. As I do so I start to think about the life I have lived. 

  When I was a child this country didn’t exist. I lived in the good old United States of America. I mean it essentially the best but it was better then this shit hole, Peace. Yeah, they named this place Peace. 

  I had a decent life as a child. Right up until my parents died. I went to school and had a best friend named River. She was chill and I loved her. Sadly, when my parents died I went to go live with Aunt and she lost touch. My Aunt sent me off to a boarding school. Where I was an outcast. I guess River and my parents were the only people I have ever had in my life. This is the most depressing thing I have ever admitted. I mean I only have two hours left to live might as well get it all off my chest. Am I wrong?

  Well it’s 1 hour and 45 minutes now. I get out the bread and lay it on the plastic plate. I sigh. I’m not going to allow myself to cry or feel sad. I think over everyone else who’s going through the same situation as me right now. I wonder what they are doing. How are they feeling? I wish I could talk to them. I wish we could all go through this together. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  After boarding school I tried to get into college. It was too expensive though and I couldn’t win any scholarship. Even if I tried I couldn't pay off student debt before I'm 70. I would eventually go bankrupt. So I ended up getting a job as a fast-food worker. Every little boy's dream.

   I live in this small apartment complex. It's one room with a closet and bathroom. As a minimum wage fast-food worker, it's the best I could afford. It's actually pretty nice. I have it better than most people. Some of my co-workers live in apartments like mine with 3-4 other people. I have it kinda lucky. Well, I guess it's had now.

  I feel no emotions. What I happen to be feeling right now with 1 hour and 30 minutes left to live is nothing. I pretty much went my whole life feeling nothing. Right now happens to be no different. I wish it was different, I would give anything for it to be different. No matter how much I wish, no emotion comes. 

  I open the peanut butter. I put it on the left piece of bread. I love peanut butter. I always have a piece of toast with peanut butter for breakfast every single day. I've been that way for the last 7ish years of my life. 

  I kinda wish my life could have been different. Maybe my parents could not have died. River and I could have been lifelong companions. I probably would have met a wife and had kids. I would have named one of my kids Dixen after my Grandma who died with my Grandpa before I was ever born. Also, maybe that wife could have been River. I remember her being really pretty and funny. Sadly, that's not how things ended up. I'm sitting here now on my deathbed making a PB & J.

  I open the jelly. It's grape jelly. If you eat PB & Js with strawberry jelly, you must be Satan. I wonder if there's an afterlife. I start to panic. I almost dropped the jelly. What if I'm a bad person? I never got baptized. What if I go to hell? I open my phone and get distracted by afterlife articles for 30 minutes. I just wasted 30 minutes of my remaining lifespan. I have 1-hour of life. I don't think I have ever been so mad at myself. I want to scream.

  I press the sandwich together. I get a bag of plain potato chips and a diet soda. I door the chips onto the plate. I have finished making my final meal. This is the last sad dinner I will ever eat. I have 55 more minutes on the clock. I take my first bite.

  I eat in silence. I sit and think about life, the afterlife, the few people I have seen along my journey of life. 25 years. That's how long I made it. How long I have survived. That's not that bad nowadays. You have 3 possibilities. One is getting killed off by the government. Two is the most common one and it’s getting killed by Someone else or accidental death. Then three is making it to old age which is very rare. 

  I have finished my meal. I have 10 minutes left on the clock. I stare at it. I watch it sink into 9 minutes. Single digits I think. It's kinda like new year's. After the toughest 10ish minutes of my life, I finally hear a knock at my door. 

 


February 29, 2020 06:09

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