The sun’s rays gently peeked into his room like a toddler in mischief. It was the first time light had shone in it for three months. Sam lay prone on his bed, willing himself to sleep but sleep had been a battle he had lost a long time ago.

He had been surviving on the sleeping pills Dr. Morris prescribed, sleeping through the days and lying awake at night. Thinking and contemplating. Some nights he wandered aimlessly in  town. Everything was so peaceful at 3 am. There were no crying children around, no crowded streets and no one around to pity him. He had rode on the “I’m fine” train until it ran out of gas. It was easier to lay low and wait for his time.

But today was different, Sam didn’t know why but he could feel it. Maybe it was because he purposefully left his curtain slightly open. Or maybe it was the beginning of a new month.

Sluggishly, he stretched his hand to the table, reaching out for the pills. But this time, he let his hand fall. 

Just today, I’ll do without them just today.

With a slight nod of approval, he turned his body over and opened his eyes. A smile escaped the corner of his lips as he watched the rays on his bedroom wall. He had stayed in last night and for the first time in 10 years, he had knelt and said a prayer. No miracle would avert the tragedy awaiting him so all he prayed for was courage. That was enough.

And just like that, an ethereal kind of peace had engulfed and swallowed him whole. He hadn’t even felt that good when he first tried Marijuana or the first time he sneaked out of his parent’s house. This was different. Sam couldn’t explain it but he could feel it.

He hadn’t realized the depth of his rabbit hole till his eyes glimpsed the path from the bed to the bathroom. It was filled with every sort of thing from last month’s pizza box, takeout that tangled up cables and clothes that meandered between clean and dirty. He couldn’t tell the difference anyway so he only wore his legendary black sweatpants and black t-shirt. He had no one to meet anyway.

Sam’s life took a drastic turn a year ago. He went from being the life of the party, clubbing out every weekend to locking himself at home for days. Not taking or receiving anyone’s call. What he had dismissed as a mere headache turned out to be far worse and had inherently paused the tape of his existence.

Dr. Morris’s words had engraved themselves in his mind. 

“It’s a brain tumor Sam, I’m so sorry.”

How many times had he replayed those words. But there was no use, this was the end of the line. 6 months was the time he had left but that was three months ago. 

His moment of epiphany had come the previous night after his prayer. He could either sit around in despair and wait for his time, or make the most of the remaining 3. Who knows? Maybe by finding the road back to happiness, he could elongate his life.

So this was it. The final 90 days of his life. How would he spend it? What would he do? Sam took his notebook from his drawer and  clutched his pen. 

With a trembling hand and a thundering heart, he opened a blank page and wrote.

“I don’t want to die with regrets, here lies Sam’s bucket list.”

With that, he lay the notebook on his bed, and walked to his window. The warmth of the sun felt luscious on his face and all at once, he felt his heart thawing. 

Kinarah ♥️♥️♥️