short stories.

the end of the bucket list

"Why'd you make a list of things you want to do? Just go and do them!" "Honey, that's not exactly how it wor..." "Yeah, well, what if you write something down and don't even want to do it by the time you get to it?", Sarah said calmly, her big hazel eyes exchanging a look with those of her father. "Uh, whatever. What's for dinner? No, wait, I'll just eat what I feel like eating. No need to make the plans ahead.", she smirked, knowing she won the not-really-an-argument argument.

"...Aand, check!",  Sarah exclaimed as she put the very last green tick at the end of her list. Not any list, though - the bucket list. As a child, she never really understood the need to have one. Just do things you feel like doing, listing them is unnecessarily stressful, she thought. Until than one, seemingly ordinary day when she got the diagnosis. However, that wasn't the day that everything changed. Sure, everything was theoretically completely different, but not in practice, no. The change came over time, filling her up with all its pain, changing her routines, her mindset, thoughts, stances. In that way, she became different. She even made that list that once represented boundaries, things she felt like she would then have to do.

And, well, she did them. It did take years and it did take up alot of her strength, but she did it all, every single point had a tick mark to it. Visit six continents? Check. Ride the tram in pajamas? Check. No, actually, double check, one time on accident. Spend an entire paycheck in a day? Check. It, however, didn't feel like it brought anything different with it. Sure, the memories were something, but the sense of fullfillment was definetely overcome by the feeling of emptiness.

What to I do now that I've did it all? Do I just sit there and... die? Nothing particular to live for, no goals, just awaiting. The situation felt like both a win and a fail; having finished things to do in life, but not having finished... actual life. Do I wait more? Do I give up? Kill myself? Go crazy?

Instead, on the last line of the paper, she wrote another point.