The 92nd death.
[By Zara Wazir Ali]
Death is not an alien thought to my over-obsessive brain. And what I have learned from life is that death brings out vulnerability, being a moment of utter honesty, it will make me unable to keep up any pretenses, so I preserve my obituary to be my final pretense. It should be a personal and hidden yet curious affair. Only one thought remains: I was born alone, I shall die alone, none shall mourn.
Thus my death should be an utter secret: One that makes my beloved wonder about my whereabouts years after I am gone. And they ask themselves with worry and wonder about the whereabouts of the unrealistic girl who lived in a world that accommodated only herself. They would wonder with a curious yet longing grin about the foolish girl who exhausted herself always with social pretenses yet often talked about disappearing one day with the loveliest, yet the fakest smiles. And then she would be forgotten, only to be remembered again the next day at the slight traces of her existence she left behind… through mixed emotions of worry, hatred, disgust, pain, love, and life. She chose to vanish but she would still be there. Forever.
Our Self-Written Obituaries invites people to write their obituary in 200 words. The idea is to share with the world how you will like to be remembered after you are gone. (May you live a long life, of course!) Please mail me your self-obit at email@example.com.