ᚠǾᚦᚨ – Fœða – Born
Dying is easy
I don’t remember dying.
Many have told me about the day that I died. It seems like a story about someone else.
6am. The alarm is screaming. I turn it off and lie in bed for a few more minutes. My heart is heavy.
First class of the day is Chemistry. Why does it have to be the first class? We all hate it.
Bzzzz Bzzzz
That will be the group chat. It’s like they are listening in on my thoughts.
Derek: Did anyone finish the assignment?
Claire: No! I couldn’t even understand it!
Sara: Was it even in English?
John: Can everyone stop! I’m trying to sleep, but my phone keeps blowing up!!!
Megan: I think I’m going to be sick…
That’s me, Megan. I was 15 years old that day. Two days after this, I would be 15 and a half. I had been studying for my driving permit. My older sister didn’t get her permit till she was nearly 17, and my older brother was 18! I wanted to be the first of us to get a permit on the first possible day.
I got up to start getting ready while my phone kept buzzing. The group chat was equal parts study group, friends, and a place to scream about how much we all hated chemistry.
None of my siblings are awake yet. They don’t have to be at school so early. My older sister is in her first semester at the same community college I’ll be at this morning, but she doesn’t have any early classes. My older brother is a senior in high school, which I’ll be heading to later this morning. My younger brother is finishing up middle school. Both of them start their day an hour after me.
I got into a special program called Governor’s School. This is for students who are nominated by one of their teachers and who pass the entrance test. We meet at the local community college during the first half of the day and take college classes. When we graduate high school, we will have our associate’s degree and have completed one of the more difficult programs in the state.
I laugh a bit as I walk into the bathroom. IF we graduate.
The other classes are tough, but I think Chemistry might just kill me.
“You wanted this,” I say to my reflection.
My hair is a mess!
I finish with the bathroom and get myself dressed. I feel so tired, but it’s time to leave soon. My chemistry book is still on my desk with a barely started assignment.
The whole study group was up late trying to get it done, but we didn’t even understand what the teacher wanted us to do. I tried asking, but he blew me off. I’m going to send another email before we leave.
Dear Mr. L,
I quit! I can’t do this. I hate it! I hate everything!
Chemistry is dumb and makes me feel dumb. How does anyone understand this!?!!
The entire class agrees. We will never learn and refuse to try anymore!
My mouse hovers over the send button before I press and hold the delete key, erasing the entire message. Then I take my phone and send a message to the group: Heading out! See everyone soon.
I hear my dad walking down the stairs. He takes me directly to the college. It’s nearly as close to our house as the high school, but in the opposite direction. They have a bus to take students from the high school to the college, but I’d have to wake up even earlier to catch it.
I grab my book, throw it into my backpack, and start to head out.
Just before I get to the stairs, I remember breakfast. So I toss a sausage and egg croissant sandwich into the microwave for a couple of minutes and think about quitting while watching the plate spin round and round. Before I talk myself into actually sending an email, the microwave goes off, and I take my breakfast and run up the stairs.
My heart is pounding in my ears when I get to the main floor to meet my dad.
“Good morning!” he crows.
I stifle a yawn and mumble, “morning” back at him, then head to the garage.
It’s about a 20-minute drive, but my dad will be talking to me, so I won’t be able to catch a nap.
“How do you feel today?” he asks as we pull out of the neighborhood. He’s been asking me this same question every morning since band camp.
I give him the same answer every morning: “tired.”
For some reason, this amuses him, but then he says those three words, “I love you.” How can I be mad at him when he wakes up early to take me to the worst class ever and still tells me that every single day?
We ride in amicable silence for a while.
“Are you gonna eat that?”
I look down and notice the breakfast sandwich on my lap. “I’ll eat it in class.”
“They let you eat in class? We were never allowed to eat in class. My teachers would have lost it if I even tried.”
“Dad… It’s not the dark ages. Things have changed.”
For some reason, that’s funny too.
“It’s Chemistry today. Can you drop me off at the science building?” I say as we pull onto the campus.
My dad starts to drive around the front of the college as he responds, “Sure.”
“Have a good day! Love you!!” he calls out with a far too cheery voice when I step out onto the curb.
“Love you too.” I try to sound happy. It’s not that I’m not happy to tell him, but I feel the two-story building loom over me like a skyscraper. It’s not tall, but the weight of all the work feels like it is going to topple down, crushing me under the avalanche.
He waits at the curb while I walk toward the building, waiting for me to wave. I turn as I open the door and give him a smile as I wave goodbye.
Neither of us thought it would be the last time we would see each other before I died.
My heart was racing as I walked through the door. I felt it thudding against my chest when I walked up the stairs. Blood was rushing through my ears while I walked down the hall.
I arrived at the classroom as a shadow began to close in on my vision.
“Good morning, Megan!” Mr. L called out as I walked to my desk.
Each step felt like slogging through thick mud.
“Good morning…”
I barely got the words out. The swirling rush of blood through my ears rose to a crescendo as the darkness swallowed me and then…
Silence.