The day I died 

I couldn’t remember what happened. The events that occurred was blurry as if a cloud of mist has covered the truth, not wanting me to ever find out what it means. We were in the shopping mall, strolling around the line of shops. Not wanting to buy anything, just to look around to while away our evening. Something brought me away from my family. I was a few levels down. Looking up, I saw my mother started scolding both my younger siblings. I never knew why she did that. People were stopped in their tracks and making a crowd, wandering what has happened as my mother continued shouting and screaming at the top of her lungs. I called her to stop. At first, she did not hear me but after a few attempts, she did and faced me. Her face were red with anger and fury and she rebuked me saying I did not know a thing. We exchanged a few sentences but all it did was make her even more mad at me, instead. She ran down and started chasing me. My innate response was to run the other way, away from her. My body can sense the danger and caution me to take more precautions. But she ran really fast and at last we were in s clothing store, running in circles, chasing one another. It was then I saw the rage that possessed her. Nothing can stop her. It is written all over her face. She started blaming everyone in our family. Even my father isn’t spared. Next it was me. The words pierced into my heart and as she kept spouting, it drained the energy out of me. Nothing really matters now.  I feel as if what she is telling me is that I’m a dissapointment. A disgrace to the family and never wanted. “Don’t blame other people!” was what I shouted and what brought me awake. My roommate has always complain of me sleep talking, and I didn’t believe her until that day when I wake up, shouting that sentence. There wasn’t an ending to that dream but I know it. Every single cell in my body can sense it. I woke up crying that day. Because I knew what happened after that incident. I killed myself. 

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