Inoperable

 

I’m dying.

Those words were so hard to say.

No one knew my health was going to hell until I was dead anyway. It’s not as if I went around allowing myself to look like anyone past their prime, let alone dying for christ’s sake.

My health was my business and my business. Right up until it became everyone else’s.

The funeral parlor are currently running the shit out of my family, telling them how ‘sorry’ they are. Like they don’t see a gajillion ruined families run through every day. They say how they are willing to ‘lower’ their prices for the outrageously pricey coffins, even though they’re still paying nearly 4x as much as they were bought for.

But of course.

They only need me when I’m gone. It’s always how it’s been with these assholes.

They act so strong,  even though they have no idea how any of this is working.

Even when they were babies, they pretended as if they knew what they were doing even though they were goddamn babies.

They always thought I was the stupidest, even though I was 12 years older.

12. Years.

Twelve.

But each one of them decided that I was the inadequate one, buddha knows why.

With each of them comes their own set of problems but, that’s a separate matter from this story really.

The problem here is that I am dead, and no one knows what to do.

Of course not. I’ve been each of these sucker’s back bone since our parents died.  I’m the one who comforted all of them, separately of course, and listened to all of their life stories (they all told them like I wasn’t there to watch them grow), and pretended that it was nothing. Afterwards I was the one lending out money and giving job recommendations and taking care of them.

It was my job.

with boths parents gone I had to take on the responsibility and make sure everyone was okay.

Except they acted so goddamn ungrateful.

I think now that I’m dead I’ll stick around to watch them all flail helplessly like fish out of water.

OK, real Natasha here. A few words before I go, this story is not true to life.

• I am not dead (yet, I still have some time)
• My parents aren’t dead (yet, they too, have some time left)
• The age gap is actually 13 years
• My siblings aren’t actually that reliant on me. They’re just as mean though.

This is me,

Singing off