People do many things when they're grieving and angry at the world. Some curse others for their misfortunes, while some even blame God. Everyone copes with grief in their own way.
My way was cutting down the trees on my family farm with my trusty axe, the one my grandfather gave me for my birthday. He was the only family I had left. My parents died in a car accident when I was very young, and my grandfather raised me afterward. He was always grumpy, as if he hated the world itself. I never liked him.
I swung my axe at a tall tree, slicing deep into its trunk.
"Why the fuck does this happen!" I shouted, determined to cut down the sixteen-year-old tree. The sun was setting, and dark clouds loomed above me. I hated my life; nothing ever went my way. Rage burned in my eyes as I hacked at the tree.
In my family, we have a tradition: whenever a baby is born, we plant a tree. The one I was chopping down was planted when I was born. With every swing, the tree trembled violently, even the wind seemed to help me destroy it. As thunder rumbled in the sky, I screamed, "I hate this fucking tree! Die already!"
Even after two hours, the tree still stood. My hands were bloody and raw, but I felt no pain, the agony of loss was far greater. I swung harder.
"That slut... I wish I could have cut her down like this tree. Fucking hell!"
I lost two people in one week — the two I trusted and loved the most. One died, and the other... I don't even want to talk about her. At least I got to break her two front teeth. It was satisfying. Maybe she has already called the police, but I don't care. I have nothing left to lose. I might as well die here.
"Ha! She looked hideous!"
Today I learned that when people reach the peak of sadness, they start laughing. Seeing the love of my life cheating on me with the football captain, on the same day my grandfather died, was surreal. I didn't know what to say; all I could do was laugh. When I heard her excuse, I laughed even harder. The spark she once had for me was gone. She wanted something new, something different, something I wasn't.
I laughed so hard that I punched her in the face and broke her teeth. As for her new lover, I broke several of his bones. It felt disturbingly satisfying. I never thought I would do such a thing, but somehow, deep inside me I wished I'd done more. Thunder roared as rain poured down, soothing my bruised face. Dried blood washed from my forehead, blurring my vision as I kept chopping. The tree was nearly halfway down.
"Everyone left me alone. Why the fuck are you still here? Die with me!" I shouted, swinging harder and harder. My grief and anger fueled each strike. Suddenly, a blinding flash lit the sky, and I was thrown backward into the mud.
A deafening boom followed; lightning struck the tree. My ears rang as the burning tree split in half, flames devouring its trunk. Tears welled in my eyes.
"You've taken everything from me, God! At least leave this tree! Why can't you let me have just one thing? Why do you take everything away? Why? Why!?"
My voice cracked as I screamed into the storm. "Take me too! Don't leave me here suffering. Kill me like you did everyone I love! Can't you hear me? Take me!"
I collapsed, staring at the burning tree. In the distance, police sirens wailed. I couldn't help but laugh again. I asked for death, and the police came instead.
I tried to stand with my battered body. "That bastard really hit hard... shit." A strong gust knocked me down, covering me in mud again. "Fuck!... Nothing good ever happens. Why am I even alive?"
Then I heard it, the cracking of wood. The burning tree was falling toward me. The terror seized me as I tried to move, but it was too late. The tree crashed onto me, breaking several bones. I could hear them snap.
"Aaahhh!" I screamed, but before I could finish, I was engulfed by fire. Then came the unbearable pain of my flesh burning. The tree I tried to chop down is the one that's burning me alive.
I never thought I'd die like this. My dream was simple—I just wanted to live happily with the person I loved, build a family, and stay on the farm that had been in our family for generations. I pictured growing old peacefully, surrounded by the people I cared about, saying my goodbyes with them by my side. Was that really too much to ask? Or was I being greedy, wanting more than I deserved?
Why is it that the selfish, the liars, the cheaters, the deceitful, the cruel, and the hypocrites are always the ones who get rewarded? Why do they end up with everything they want—everything I wanted? Is it really so wrong to just try to be a decent person in this world?
If I had another chance, maybe I'd live differently. Maybe I'd take what was mine instead of always trying to do the right thing. Maybe I shouldn't have trusted people so easily. Maybe I'd dream bigger… be crueler. Maybe I'd live more like those bastards. Maybe.
I miss arguing with that old fool; he would've laughed if he saw me like this. I'm so alone… so damn alone.