A Life Unlived

The news came on.

The anchor’s voice was calm, but her words sent a chill down my spine.

“Brace yourself. Scientists have confirmed that Mars is on a collision course with Earth. The impact is expected to wipe out 89% of humanity. The countdown has begun—one year remains.”

Silence filled the room.

One year.

I sat there, frozen, unable to process what I had just heard. My entire life flashed before me—not that there was much to see. I had always wondered if I had truly lived, but now I had my answer. No, I hadn’t. My existence had been nothing more than a series of struggles, a loop of suffering I had never been able to break.

I was in university, studying tech—a field I hated—because it was supposed to be my way out. My way to stability. But even then, my life had been a constant barrage of anger, disappointment, and pain. Was this really all it amounted to? Struggle, then death?

It had to be some kind of sick joke.

For years, I held onto hope for the future. That hope got me through some dark times. I told myself that things would get better, that if I just endured, something good would come. But now there was no future to look forward to.

I clenched my fists.

All my life, I had been a punching bag—physically, emotionally. A target for others’ resentment. I regretted never speaking up, never fighting back. But most of all, I hated my own weakness. I had let them break me, mold me into someone who carried their pain even after I left.

It was funny, in a twisted way. I was homeless. Living in my car with my best friend—my dog, Luffy. I thought university might help me turn things around, maybe give me a chance to build a life where I didn’t have to struggle just to exist. I never wanted much. Just a roof over my head, a place for Luffy and me to rest without worry. But I guess that was asking for too much.

And now? Now I had no time left.

Life had a cruel way of destroying plans before they could even begin. I had lost so much already, but I kept moving forward, thinking that one day, I’d finally find my place. Turns out, I’d been fighting for a future that didn’t even exist.

I wasn’t the only one in this situation, but that didn’t change the bitter truth—I had never truly lived. Can you even call it a life if all you’ve done is survive?

My past haunted me. My mother resented me because of my father, and my father looked at me with disgust because of my mother. I was caught between their hatred, pushed aside no matter where I turned. I tried to be close to him, but I was treated like an intruder. I tried to stay with her, but I was a burden.

Eventually, I left. I moved in with my girlfriend at the time and her family. They had their issues, but for the first time, I had a glimpse of what family could be. It didn’t last. My own baggage and trauma tore it apart. I had spent so long surviving that I didn’t know how to live without fighting. Even after I walked away, it felt like my past had won. They had succeeded in breaking my mind.

I tried to rebuild. Meditation. Religion. Therapy. Nothing worked.

I thought university would be my fresh start. That I could finally piece myself back together, make a life for me and Luffy.

And then the world decided to end.

I exhaled a shaky breath, staring blankly at the screen.

What was I supposed to do now? What was the point of anything?

I couldn’t change the past. I couldn’t change the way they treated me or the way I let them destroy me. But maybe, just maybe, I could change the future—or at least what little of it remained.

I never cared about riches or luxury. Even living in my car, I was happy as long as Luffy was with me. Hope had kept me going. The belief that someday, we’d have a place of our own. But now… I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

I sat there, my mind spiraling. Was this all my life amounted to? A cycle of suffering that ended in nothing?

I felt like I was being singled out, even though everyone else was facing the same fate. But I didn’t have time to think about everyone else. I had to think about myself. I had to think about Luffy.

I only had one year left.

I had been existing all this time, but I couldn’t call it living. If I was going to die anyway, then I might as well spend this last year actually living.

I had spent my entire life trapped—by my past, my trauma, my regrets. Maybe, in some way, this was an escape. The end of my world meant the end of my pain.

And yet, I still felt angry.

Why me? Why now? Why couldn’t I get just one chance?

I knew it was selfish. Everyone was losing something, even people younger than me who had barely even started their lives. But I couldn’t shake the frustration. I had finally started fighting for myself, and now it was all going to be taken away.

I looked at Luffy. He wagged his tail, oblivious to the weight of the world’s impending doom. He was the only one who had ever truly loved me—unconditionally, without judgment. The kind of love I had wished for my whole life. If I had grown up with that kind of love, maybe things would have turned out differently.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

Regret. That was all I had left.

Regret for the time I wasted. Regret for the words I never said. Regret for the kid I used to be—the kid who pushed through every hardship, clinging to the hope that one day, it would all be worth it.

I had failed him.

I could almost hear him, that younger version of myself.

“I’ll hang on for us, dude. I know it’s hard, but you promised. You promised that in the future, we’d have a good life. That we’d make it out.”

But I hadn’t. I couldn’t face him. I had let him down.

I had let Luffy down.

The only thing I had succeeded at was being a prisoner to my past.

I had failed at letting go.

I had failed at living.

But I still had one year.

And I refused to waste it.