The Eighth Time

Chapter 1 : Meaningless

THE EIGHTH TIME

Chapter 1

Meaningless

          The Dalai-Lama said that an old day passes, a new day arrives but the important thing is to make it meaningful. That’s all great really, but how are you supposed to do that? How was I supposed to make them meaningful?

          Days went as easily as waking up, getting up, dressing up and sucking up.

          And of course school.

          School sucked. Everyone said that, or thought that at least once in their lives. It was a given. I was no exception. But truthfully, it was better then staying home and mopping around. And at least I could forget about my pathetic life for a few hours.

          Because in the pathetic domain, I excelled.

          I was as average as you could find. Average look, average height, average intelligence. Nothing about me made me stand out; nothing about me made me interesting. I didn’t have any artistic talent. I read a bit but wasn’t one of those book worms. I sucked at playing video games; it hurt my eyes. I enjoyed sports but wasn’t an addict. I wasn’t a jerk or a player; I was still a virgin for crying out loud, I wasn’t a computer genius. I didn’t have perfect grades. The only noticeable thing about me was my suicidal mind. Many attempts; all failed. 

          How pathetic?

          Hi my name is Keegan Bundy and I define and give meaning to myself by my numerous failed attempts at killing myself.

          Oh and I liked quotes. But that wasn’t really something noticeable. I was too dumb to think about nice words so I relied on the ones of brighter people than me.

          Now, today was the first day of my last year of High School. Next year I was going to college, well at least I was supposed to.

          I had no clue what I would do with myself. Truth was I had never made big future plans. I was better at suicide plans. And some might even argue with me on that one considering they all failed.

          That’s what I was. A big fail.

          So today it was a new year. A new grade. A new class.

          Changes were like anything. I didn’t always enjoy them, but even if I didn’t what could I really do about it?

          In a Hollywood movie or a Young Adult book, this would be exciting. I would meet new friends and then there would be this new girl who would end up being an alien and she would make me believed she liked me but then she would end up eating my guts to regenerate her tissues.

          See, even in my life scenarios I died.

          But my life definitely wasn’t Hollywood script worthy.

          So I walked to school, my eyes on the ground, careful to not walk on the lines of the sidewalk, hands in pocket.

          If I just threw myself in the street when a car was coming I wouldn’t even need to go to school today. But with my luck I would probably end up paralyzed from neck down and force my mom to quit her job and stay home to take care of me. And that was not an outcome I wanted to risk.