The Smiling Girl

The night of August 14, connecting it to 15.

Sleep wasn't blessing me with its comforting veil, which (usually) helped conceal the mess that was my life—even if temporarily. The more I stayed awake, the more I got swallowed in the deep darkness of the night.

I rolled on my bed. No sounds from the outside world, save from one or two cars passing by. It must have been something around 3 AM.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead. God, was it hot and humid.

To confirm my guess about the time, I picked up my phone. The pixels of the screen lit up, making my eyes ache at the sudden intrusion. I immediately shut down the screen, as I had already retrieved the info I needed.

…indeed, it was 3 AM: the so-called witching hour.

I went to bed at midnight. This meant I was struggling to fall asleep for three whole hours. Compared to the nights where I had stayed awake the entire night, this meant it was still pretty early for grabbing another chance to fall into that deep slumber I'd love to get lost in.

But not tonight. No: I have had enough.

Tonight would be the time I finally followed the long-time wish of a girl yearning for death. Who would that be, you ask?

A girl I know. With middle length dark hair, and eyes matching the darkness of the hair color in terms of the circles underneath. Tired. Sleepy. Unsmiling.

This girl, who only smiled at the face of death. As if it were her entire purpose. As if she were greeting her lover. Such a pure, warm, radiant smile.

Yeah, the times she talked about suicide were about the only times I saw her smile.

Instead of pondering on the usual questions of "what to eat / where to go?" suicide was her choice of pastime. Discussing how to commit it, when, what materials to use, and so on.

There were times I found her to be unreasonable. I wondered why she was so insistent on dying, while all living creatures strived to... Live. True to their name, right?

Living creatures.

We would all die someday, anyway. What was the rush?

Despite this, I had entertained her ideas of suicide many a time. After all, she was everything that I had. Everything. She was my whole world, so it was natural I'd follow her whims.

No matter what it was, I had no choice but to tag along.

According to her ideas, I'd find myself being the main character of many scenes. She was like a director, arranging the mise-en-scène, setting the camera angles, and yelling "Action!" on top of her lungs, before joining my side.

One time we were in front of a train. A regular train, running on many tracks of this busy city—during rush hour, nonetheless. I do have to admit, it was actually sort of inviting to jump forward and end it all.

It'd be a nuisance to people surrounding us, though. So we didn't jump. It wasn't their fault that they had places to go, when we didn't.

One time we were in the pharmacy to get some drugs. Overdosing was a popular method after all, wasn't it? It's not like I could attain firearms, so this seemed like the expected route. Admittedly, there were some obstacles on the way: asking for lethal amounts of drugs wouldn't go unnoticed by the pharmacy.

"Regardless… it's still worth a shot," she whispered to me.

However, when we overheard a dad seeking medicine for his terminally ill daughter, I felt ashamed running into death's arms so hastily when some people didn't even get to choose the ending date, striving to extend it even if for a day.

We exited the scene. But for her… not even this heartstrings-tugging scene wasn't enough motivation to stop her wish of making up death scenarios of our own. Perhaps, she was even somewhat jealous of the dying girl…?

Some of these scenarios were recurrent. Often times… we would picture drowning inside a large lake. I have to give credit where it's due: gazing up to the sky and being swallowed by the huge body of water, thus becoming one with nature, was a nice way out. Hearing the birds chirp before diving in one final time… It was my favorite scenario out of all. How pleasant of a demise.

This plan in particular really did put a smile on my face: whenever we pictured it, without any exceptions. My smiling features would finally match hers. I guess I did get her point, from time to time.

But… this death would require patience. She wasn't this patient. She was seeking a quick way out.

So we made a deal. We would jump off from a building. Quick, easy, and most likely efficient. If we picked a building that was more on a stranded street, we wouldn't be bothering many innocent people either.

It was as good as it'd get, right?

The more minutes passed on this suffocating hot night, the more I couldn't contain myself anymore. It was time to make this plan a reality.

I didn't even know when I left my small apartment, and arrived at the rooftop of the chosen building of this final act of me and hers. It was as if I were teleported into the scene. There were more cars rushing around than initially expected, but it couldn't be helped that some people would end up seeing my smashed body at morning time anyway.

I looked at her widely grinning face. Seeing that smile, I had no doubts that this was the right choice.

A step forward. Two steps forward. A bit more.

My final breath. I filled my lungs with it and bid farewell to the world.

There was no need for hesitation. I took one more step forward, and this time, it wasn't the corner of the building that met my steps. It was the humid summer air, eagerly waiting to embrace me.

So we fell down.

Goodbye.

—

…goodbye?!

I jumped on my bed and hit my head onto the bed stand.

Another dream about suicide, huh?! How many times was it this week?

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and grabbed my phone to check the time. At that moment, a million notifications—right below the digital clock making it known that it was 1:27 AM—illuminated the screen, making me flinch from the sudden sounds.

Messages wishing me a happy birthday, pictures of cats and links to songs conveying affection overflowed my sight.

The dream-me smiled before she jumped—and that was surely a happy smile. But the smile I had on my face right now? It was a million times brighter and warmer than that desperate grin.

How uncool was it to see a dream about suicide on the eve of my birthday?!

—

…it's true, that girl was me.

I admit. I wasn't going through the best time of my life, and I found myself dreaming about suicide scenarios often. Rather than planning about the future, like any other young girl would… I kept on building intricate plans of suicide. Oddly enough, this was so comforting to me, that these dreams would immediately put a smile on my face, which was otherwise expressionless during my day-to-day life.

But this time, what made that expressionless face change was the overwhelming affections of my loved ones reflecting on my phone screen.

I chuckled softly. Turns out, there were things that could make my face light up, and not just fantasies of suicide.

I was still here. I was loved. Perhaps I had just needed a reminder that I mattered. Thankfully, and perhaps a bit ironically, the date of my birth had come to my aid—bringing forward that urgently needed reminder.

My existence mattered.

I felt a teardrop form on my tired eye. Soon, my other eye followed.

Ah... really. Just how foolish was I?

I was still here.

I was still here.

I am still here.

What's the rush?

—

As curious as I was to see the full contents of the notifications piling up on the screen, I gently put it aside and puffed my pillow, turning it on its cooler side. I needed my sleep for my important day tomorrow, replies could wait!

With this, I closed down my eyelids, forcing the accumulated tears to fall down on my cheeks. I felt them glide down on my touched expression, crafted by my loved ones all over the world.

I fell asleep back into the night, with the biggest birthday gift of all time: a genuine smile.