(NOTE: This is a short story about a character who's dying, so don't read it if that kind of thing disturbs you. Also, there's one sort of swear word, because it fit the character, so if you are extremely sensitive to that...)
This year, I won’t be setting my clock back for daylight savings time.
I don’t see why I should. Life is short enough. Especially for me…
But it does no good to dwell on things. I can’t set myself back, understand? I need to keep up hope.
I know this may sound stupid, but I don’t care. I have six months to live! To hell with what people think.
Man, I get so annoyed at those people who say “yolo”… They have no idea what it’s like to live on a timeline…
So why should I be forced to lose time? Give up my precious hours? Why should anyone be forced to lose time? There is far too much to do, far too much left for me, or anyone, to contribute.
Today, I shall be volunteering at a hospital. Tomorrow, I’ll educate at a museum. I’ll always be a bit early, I guess. Maybe I can meet up with some people while I wait, and tell them my story. I know they may not care, but it’s an important one.
Life is short. So, bitterly short. There are billions of things to do. I should never have waited until my last six months to start living.
I am going to propose to my girlfriend this week. Even if I am going to die, I love her just the same, and there is nobody else I’d like to spend the rest of my life with. Of course, I’ll tell her about my deadline too. But surely if she still accepts the roses I buy her, despite the fact that they will wilt, she will also accept me?
I have found a new home for my dog. I started asking around early, because I wasn’t sure how long it would take. Now I’m in the slightly awkward position of asking his future family to allow me just three more months.
I’m spending money far more recklessly now, but I am evermore careful with my time. Every second counts.
I am writing a book. I need to leave something behind. I have every word planned out, even if most of them aren’t written. It’s not as if I have words to waste.
I am disappointed that my own mother won’t see me. She says it makes her to sad, watching me wasting away. But I’m not wasting; I’m thriving, living every little bit of my life for the first time to its fullest, and it’s a little bit emptier without her there to spend those moments with me.
The walls of my house are a collage of pictures. I want the things I love, those memories, imprinted so firmly in my mind that even death cannot tear them from my grasp.
Death can’t stop me from disobeying time. Nothing can. Saving daylight would merely be killing these few seconds I have, to visit my sister, my girlfriend, my father, my friends, to live and to teach and to leave my mark on the world…
I won’t be losing time again.