(A short story + urban fantasy + emotional drama. Not an ordinary urban tale, not about being reborn, and not a wish-fulfillment story. Enter at your own risk.)
Reality. Illusion.
No one pays attention to the lives of people at the bottom. I used to think the same way: better to leave than let life crush me.
My family was gone, my life was a mess, and I wasted my days numbing myself with alcohol.
Honestly, my life was like bird droppings falling from the sky. They splattered across the ground, and no one paid them any mind, because everyone thought they were filthy.
When I decided to leave this world, I met a girl on the rooftop.
She had only a few years left to live, yet she couldn't die by ordinary means. Even if she tried to kill herself, she would come back to life.
She lived constantly on the brink of death.
Last letters, final wishes, longing for death, despair, joy, revenge, fear of separation, fear of death, gifts, giving up on dying: all of it intertwined.
No one cares about your shining moments. They only hope you'll live worse than they do, and they'll remember every nasty thing you've done.
But everyone has the right to pursue their own happiness.
I pursued that truth, even though I fell in love with someone whose life was nearly over.
It was a mistake.
And a wall split open.
In the end, I wrote it all down, for the world to laugh at.
Very interesting, logical and exciting.