Dahlia

A Lovely Place to Die

I was eighteen when I decided to end my life. It wasn't some big, dramatic scene like you see in the movies. It wasn't loud or exciting. It was a decision I made quietly and without overthinking so I wouldn't be able to change my own mind.
I trudged through the house I grew up in, glancing at old photos that littered the hallway walls down the stairs. As I passed my father's bedroom, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as I peeked in for one last glimpse at the dying, cancer riddled man I had made so many fond memories with in the past eighteen years. My father was a kind man, and it was rare to see him without a smile on his gaunt face. He had been my best friend my entire life, but the cancer had certainly taken its toll on him when we could no longer go to dinner together or watch a movie without him grimacing in pain.
I closed my eyes and said my silent goodbye. I was, after all, the only person he had left after my mom died five years ago. Now I was headed down the same path she had taken when she killed herself. But there was no going back now.
The drive to the woods was completely silent. I switched off the radio almost immediately after getting in the car, needing to be alone in my thoughts one last time. This was the best decision. I had gone through the pain of losing my mom, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing my dad too. I knew he was getting weaker every day, and I couldn't watch him deteriorate anymore. So I was ending my own suffering, saving myself for once. This way, I won't have to be alone. I couldn't.
Don't get me wrong, I wasn't some depressed girl dressed in all black with dark makeup. I was a normal eighteen year old girl. I liked to read and write, I liked music, and I liked looking at the night sky most of all. I always imagined my mom was looking down at me as I looked up, searching for her in the stars. I could almost see her eyes twinkle and her lips curve up into her famous smile.
As I reached my final destination, I took a deep breath and headed for the place I had picked out last week when I started planning. My mother used to bring me here in the fall when the ground was blanketed with red leaves and you could feel the chilly wind on your cheeks. I could feel the satisfying crunch of the dried leaves underneath my boots as I walked, the smell of the earth hit my nostrils. What a lovely place to die.
As I sat on the cold, hard ground, I could almost hear my mother's soft voice. "Isn't it beautiful, Gen?"
My name is Genesis Dhalia, but my mom always called me Gen. She was the only one who ever used that nickname. I unscrewed the white cap from the orange bottle and shook the small, white pills in to my hand. Perks of having a sick dad who refused to take his medicine, I guess. I remembered him trying them for a few days before deciding he didn't like them and shoving them into the back of the medicine cabinet and assuming I wouldn't know. Before I could change my mind, I shoved the pills into my mouth, finishing off the rest of the bottle directly with a swig of water from the bottle I had brought. Easy enough.
I won't lie, I was scared as hell. What would it be like to die? What would happen to me after? Would it hurt? As I lay back on the leaves, I felt a sense of peace wash over me that I hadn't felt in a very long time. The cool wind eased my nerves a bit, and the clouds floated across the sky above me. There was definitely no changing my mind now, and I think that's what gave me a sense of peace. I had made a decision. A very important, final decision. I decided when I died and how I died.
When I finally began to get sleepy, I knew it was almost over. You know how right before you die, they say your life flashes before your eyes? As corny as it sounds, they're right.
I closed my eyes and saw my dad carrying in my fifth birthday cake while my mom smiled and took pictures of the five bright candles shoved into the pink cake. I saw my mother walking me down the narrow path I was now taking my last breaths on. I saw my father sitting at the kitchen table, tears running down his face when he got the call that my mother, the only woman he would ever truly love, had died. I saw him laying in his hospital bed, breathing slowly as I sat by his bed when he first got diagnosis, and finally I saw my mother, her beautiful, shining face smiling at me. What a comforting thing to be the last face I saw before I died. However, before I closed my eyes for the last time, I saw someone standing over me.
People say dying is hard, but that isn't true. Dying was the easy part, that I knew now. The hard part was actually living.
When I opened my eyes, everything around me was dark. Dark and cold. There was nothing but blackness all around, but I could see flashes of silver. I blinked a few times. It wasn't just silver, it was silver eyes. I could see the beautiful lashes framing the almond shaped eyes, and I was in awe of the color. It was the brightest shade of silver I had ever seen to be honest.
My hazel eyes met the silver ones that chilled me to the bone. "Am I dead?" The words escaped my lips before I even realized I had made a sound. I heard a guy's voice answer, "Yes." He had an irritated tone to his velvety voice as if I was wasting his time, and I couldn't help but wonder if his face was as mesmerizing as his eyes and voice. How strange that I could see his eyes and nothing else. It reminded me of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. My mother used to read it to me as a child.
"So is this the part where I go in to the light or disappear or something?" I couldn't look away from the beautiful, terrifying eyes.
The guy was quick to respond. "You're not going in to the light. You're not going to die. You're going back, whether you want to or not." His words sounded harsh like he was the one dying.
I raised my eyebrows. "Shouldn't I get some kind of choice? You know, like in the movies they get to decide to stay or go?" Maybe I sounded too hopeful, but I had done this for my own reasons, and those reasons hadn't changed. Did I have friends? No. Was I unhappy? Yes. The guy let out a laugh, but it wasn't a genuine one. It was cold and condescending. He was obviously annoyed with me. His eyes seemed to flash and his next words cut me like a cold knife. Though I could only see his eyes, every emotion was shown perfectly through them.
"You don't get a choice."