"And there it is, the end," I told myself.
…
That was all I could tell myself as I slowly felt my strength leave me, my vision fading bit by bit, becoming more and more difficult to hold onto. The only sound still reaching my ears was the shrill — and increasingly slow — beeping of the electrocardiogram, the machine itself also slowing down, a sign of the coming end.
My coming end.
To be honest, I'm not really leaving with many regrets. I'm afraid, like anyone would be, but this death is above all a release.
I'm leaving alone. With no one to hold my hand. Leaving no trace behind.
My only regret? Not being able to die with a Chopin nocturne in F minor on the piano playing in my ears.
Ah, music… especially the piano, especially classical. Maybe it was the only thing that ever truly made me feel alive. That, and anime.
I care for no one, and no one cares for me. I have had no friends, and I don't have any now. Those who tried to get close to me only did so for money or favors. I come from a rich family.
A rich family, yes, but not a united one. Not a loving one.
My father was one of those eternally absent types who only came to see me to yell at me, telling me I should change and become a CEO like him to take over his small, pitiful empire I couldn't care less about, hitting me while telling me I wasn't a good son because my grades weren't good enough.
But I think the worst was when he broke my instruments.
"Musicians are losers," he would say.
He destroyed and insulted my passion, my art, my hope, my life… And I hated him for it. Without restraint, with all my strength.
My mother?
Pffff, not even worth talking about. An old alcoholic unable to take care of herself, much less her son, only good for coming home at 3 a.m., announcing her presence with the sweet sound of her hitting the ground floor.
She hasn't even come to see me in the three years I've been in the hospital since I got this little brain tumor.
The tumor that is the reason I'll soon be meeting Saint Peter.
Anyway, I feel my strength slipping away bit by bit, my vision dimming. I know I'm going to die, but I'm ready. I close my eyelids and everything turns black, before I begin to see the white light at the end of a tunnel and feel my body becoming immaterial.
"Well then, let's not keep the big boss waiting,"
I tell myself, as I start to calmly make my way toward the light.
…