INTRODUCTION:

I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, so I went online to hire an undertaker in the hopes that he would collect my body.

That way, I could die and be buried.

I would like to finally be at peace, even if it meant that I could only achieve it after death.

I packed up my bags and left home in search of a place to die, only to receive a message from my undertaker.

[Sorry, something came up. I can’t come now.]

…Excuse me? I’m already half-dead, and you’re blowing me off?

CONTENT

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When I cut my wrists, I sent the undertaker I hired my exact location.

[It’s 304, Unit 1, Garden Road. Don’t get it wrong now.

[Be sure to come two hours later.]

Half a month ago, I learned that I had cancer, so I went online to hire an undertaker and asked him to provide the full service. I also asked him to come whenever I asked him to.

The older generation always said that you had to be properly buried, or you would not be able to rest in peace, and I believed it.

So, I worked hard to gather money in order to secure myself a proper burial, but to my surprise, after I sent the message, I received a call from my undertaker.

The deep voice of a man came through the phone. “Sorry, something came up in the afternoon, so I won’t be able to go. I can give you your money back. Does that sound good?”

When I heard this, my phone nearly slipped out of my grasp.

I bit my lip and said, “You promised that you’d come when I asked you to!”

If I had not seen all the good reviews the people left for him online, I would not have believed in him!

Still, he was telling me that he could not come?

How was I supposed to hire someone else to give me a proper burial within such a short period of time?!

Perhaps it was because I was quite choked up when I was speaking, but the undertaker hesitated for a moment. “Why don’t we settle this with a form of compensation you can accept? How much money do you want?”

This was not a question about money.

I was already half-dead, and he blew me off!

My hands were trembling, and the blood on my wrists had already soaked through the hem of my dress. What my dress could not absorb splattered on the floor.

I could no longer care about how dizzy I was and could only force myself to speak. “But I’m going to die today. Why don’t I pay you a little more? Please come here. It won’t take you much time.”

Since he had already said this, I could not be greedy anymore. I would just ask him to collect my body.

“I only have one simple request. After I die, please send me to the crematorium, okay? I’ve just cut my wrists, so I won’t have time to hire another undertaker.”

I cast aside my pride and begged the undertaker to fulfill my request.

My heart was racing. I was really worried that he would say no.

After a moment of silence, the undertaker seemed to have finally caught the crux of the situation. He instinctively asked, “You’re the one dying?”

I was stunned and answered him honestly. “Who else?”

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Neither of us said anything else in the quiet room.

When the phone beeps came through, I finally realized that the undertaker had hung up on me.

I smiled self-deprecatingly.

God must be pulling a really nasty joke on me.

He would not even let me die a peaceful death.

Since my plan to take my own life had been delayed, I used some gauze to wrap up my wounds so that I would not die too quickly.

Then, I opened WhatsApp in the hopes that I could get someone to collect my body.

But even when I scrolled through my contacts, I found that I had fewer than a hundred contacts, and half of them were just acquaintances I made so that we could bulk buy stuff at a lower price.

I went to Instagram and saw Lydia Marsh, my sister.

Then, I clicked on her Instagram profile.

I saw the pictures she uploaded there.

She got those when our family celebrated her birthday with her.

Everyone was smiling happily.

I did not dare like the post, because that would make me look like a neglected child who was peeking at love and happiness that did not belong to me.

Honestly, I chose to die today because it was my birthday today as well.

I was born only a few hours apart from Lydia.

Since we were children, my family only ever seemed to remember her birthday, but never mine.

But that was no longer important.

I was finally fulfilling their wish.

They just needed to collect my body.

I would never show my face in front of them anymore.

I went back to WhatsApp and tapped on our family group chat.

I tentatively keyed in a few words.

Maria: Um… If anyone sees this message, please come to 304, Unit 1, Garden Road to help pick up my body.

I stared at the screen as I thought, “Perhaps they would think I’m pitiful and would help pick up my body.”

But after waiting for a long time, all I got was my parents exiting the group chat.

I was then forced to become the admin of the group.

I refused to give up and asked one more time.

Maria: I’m begging you, please. If anyone sees this message, please answer.

Perhaps they got fed up with me, but someone finally replied. It was my younger brother, Jake Marsh.

Jake: Could you stop?

Lydia chimed in as well.

Lydia: Maria, I’m sorry. I know that it’s your birthday today too. Please calm down. I’ll ask Dad, Mom, and our brothers to look for you.

Blake Marsh, my second brother, replied.

Blake: Ignore her. If she wants to die, so be it.

Those words made my blood run cold. My last hope was dashed.

I wiped away my tears and exited the group chat.

Just when I wanted to turn my phone off, I received a call from Aaron Marsh, my eldest brother.

I answered it in a daze and was immediately greeted with Aaron’s enraged voice.

“Could you stop? Hurry up and delete the messages in the group chat. Don’t you know it’s Lydia’s birthday today? Why are you saying you want to take your own life at this point in time? Whose day are you trying to ruin now?!”

He poured out a torrent of verbal abuse at me, and my heart hurt so much that I could not breathe.

But I forced myself to be calm and said, “Okay, I’ll do it now.”

I went to the group chat and started deleting all of the messages I sent.

Halfway through, I received a notification.

Blake, Aaron, and Jake had left the group chat.

Lydia was the only one left.

As if she was boasting, she took pictures of her birthday presents.

Lydia: Do you want them, Maria? Since I already have so many presents, why don’t I give them to you? You won’t scoff at them, right? All that I have is yours, anyway. We’re a family, after all.

As I looked through the photos, I knew that she was doing this on purpose.

In the past, I would definitely argue about it with her.

Then, she would tell on me to our mother.

But I no longer cared.

I deleted the group chat and slumped down on the floor.

Since I had lost too much blood, my reflection in the mirror looked eerily pale.

I curled up in a dark corner and hugged myself tightly.

At the very end of my end, I came to one realization: I did not have a home.

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I was also a part of the family, but at some point in time, I was considered an outsider.

When we were children, Lydia accidentally fell into a pool and hurt herself, but Garcia Marsh, my mother, blamed me for it.

She asked me why I did not save Lydia and thought that I was a conniving person. She accused me of being jealous of Lydia and wanting to hurt her.

Hence, to protect Lydia, the entire family decided to send me to a boarding school, and I could only return home once a year.

They did it in the name of discipline.

I was trapped in the boarding school for eight years, but Lydia stayed with the family.

Every time Lydia celebrated her birthday, the family organized a fireworks show that spelled her name in the air.

And on my own birthday, I would stand on the roof of the tallest building in the school and stare at the beautiful fireworks before looking down.

Sometimes, I wondered whether they would remember me after I died.

But whenever I had the urge to do it, I would remember my mother and brothers.

I would then think that they would perhaps come to pick me up the next day because they had misunderstood me.

As long as I explained myself, they would come to love me again.

After all, I was also part of the family.

I had imagined meeting them again countless times, but even until the boarding school shut down, they did not come to see me.

I was brought back to the family after the school shut down.

Then, I hid the injuries I sustained from school and pretended to be a sensible child to get into the good graces of the family, only for them to think that I had some sort of ulterior motives.

Once, Lydia was hospitalized due to food poisoning, but they thought that I was competing for the family’s love with Lydia and made her eat unhygienic food.

Enraged, Aaron locked me up in the basement.

No matter how I cried and explained myself, no one listened to me.

They waited in the hospital for Lydia to be discharged, and only after they brought her back did they remember that I was locked in the basement.

By then, I had not eaten for three days and was almost dead.

After I was brought back from school, I became weaker.

Sometimes, I would wake up in the middle of the night because my stomach hurt too much.

I tried going to my mother for help, but they only said that I was being stubborn and refused to change their ways.

So, I left the house, and even to this point of time, I still remembered what they said to me.

“Could you stop? Are you trying to put on a pitiful act again?”

“Sorry, but no one’s going to believe you.”

“If you want to die that badly, do it far away. None of us wants to collect your body!”

So, this time, I was really going to die and would stop being an eyesore to them. That was good too.

It was not as if I needed them as family.

I stared at the blood flowing out of my wrists and felt that it was going too slowly.

I climbed to the roof and stood at the edge.

As I stared at the tall buildings, I remembered how I was bullied by my classmates while I was in boarding school.

Whenever I had the urge to die, I would come to the roof of the school, but I never had the courage to jump.

I had been afraid of dying.

As long as a person could live, why would they want to die?

But I no longer had any need to fear.

My days were numbered, anyway, so I might as well just die.

It was just a pity that no one would come and collect my corpse.

I just wondered whether a person who was not given a proper burial would be able to rest in peace.

I sucked in a deep breath and shut my eyes.

Just when I was about to climb over, my phone rang from my handbag.

I opened my eyes and answered it.

“Hello?”

On the other end of the phone, the undertaker sighed in relief when he heard my voice.

“Where are you? I’m lost.”

I said nothing.

The wind at the balcony blew loudly.

My silence seemed to have clued the undertaker in on something because his voice quivered when he spoke again. “Hey, listen. I was in a hurry just now, so I didn’t grab anything to help give you a proper burial. I can’t come to collect your body.”

The wind was really strong, and no one was in sight.

But for some reason, when someone spoke to me in such a quiet environment, I felt a sense of security.

Because it had been a long time since anyone spoke to me this way.

But I did not want to trouble him any further.

I said, “You don’t have to come collect my body anymore.”

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