Five Minutes in Life Will Suffice (dedicated to Susan)

She lit up her cigarette backward, "Fuck!". Convulsed by the terror of test being positive, she threw and lit up another one. Devastated by each second, she hesitated at the parking lot of municipal health clinic. She despised everything in her view, the old lady and the dog walking past her, amiable little girl licking her ice cream with her hand bolstered by her mom before crossing, people in their business attires talking over their cellulars, the warming sun and even the cool breeze, and etc. 

She never had difficulties with money, her parents were devote Christians, and she had many friends, although her parents admonished her from being close with them. She was smart, and also attractive; more reasons to believe she was better and could do better than others in life. She never tried her best though, or her best was restricted by her complacency and self-justification that she could do better whenever she wanted to. But her determination invariably fell short.

She knew way too much in her head than for her own good. She knew everything but never experienced the real core of themes in life. She was logical, but not practical. She knew by her head, but the conviction had never reached to her heart. She judged others and never found satisfaction in life even in her complacency.

Because of her dire situation at the given moment, she started to look back on her life. The darker past seemed to be highlighted by her hatred in life, now. After all, she could be waiting for her death sentence.

'Oh, how I wish I had never met that fucker. I knew he was an asshole... I should have been more careful not to get caught... I'm going to kill that bitch who embarrassed me by lambasting humiliation before everyone in the class... My life is messed up because my parents would never let me be... my father is too naive, that's why he got betrayed by his own friends... my mother too demanding... my brother, a total fuck-up who took away my parents from me... pastor was a sheer hypocrite...'

Filled with unbearable anger, her eyes reddened. "Why me, why the fuck me! Why...". People noticed her in the corner abruptly as she yelled and sobbed, but continued about their businesses.

Then, having vent out her anger, she took a deep breath. The video footage of her birth and her parents being strangely young celebrating in the small hospital room flashed through her mind. How happy they were even to tears holding her. She started to remember how she had, not only turned him down, but broke this guy's heart by purposely going out with his best friend for a dare between her friends. How she nightmarishly haunted this outcast in her class throughout high school years. Once, she had felt the hotness of her tear during her baptism. She was too weak now.

She sat on the curb carelessly, hopelessly, and helplessly. No more tears, but she had a face as if she had lived her capacity. As soon as she lit up another cigarette, one of the nurse came out calling out her name. She looked, and the nurse being polite as she could said, "You were supposed to wait in the waiting room. The doctor will see you now."

She didn't say a word. Her fingers failed the cigarette she was holding. Then she followed the nurse into the building.

...

As soon as she walked out of the sliding doors back into the parking lot, she loosened her composure and broke into quiet tears. The sun was still bright outside. She clasped her hands and as if she was given another chance; she closed her eyes tight. "Thank you, thank you, thank you...", she chanted incessantly. She got herself together and noticed the cigarette on the ground still lit. Last several minutes, she has been through so much. As she walked over to the littered cigarette, another girl came out behind her, crying violently. She froze, she stopped breathing, and she dared not to look back. She couldn't. She trembled surreptitiously and kept her eyes shut tight, as if the crying girl was a beast ready to devour her.

Whatever was cascading from her eyes was visible even just through her beastly roar. Fortunately, it seemed to fade away slowly. And slowly, she opened her eyes. But covered her mouth quickly. That could've been her, and she knew the poor girl would've given anything to be in her place now. She would. She wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, but she could only drudge her footsteps into the light.

Afterword: Shamelessly, I post this short-story. As I got up this afternoon, lighting my first cigarette of the day, I realized how fortunate I was. From my room window, I saw people working at a remodeling site. Whether they chose that life or by limitations of life that they are confined into such occupations, I do not intend on degrading their quality of life, rather I see how spoiled I am with abundance of resources to have more options in life. Then from these site constructors, I shifted by vividly imagining people in third-world countries living unanimously-agreed poorer quality of life. Then to people who are even more doomed. Then to people who are living in hellish penury and worse conditions of life. Being ebbed with my imaginations to the worst condition of life possible, I became more and more grateful each time. I became humble. What I realized was that I used to perpetually compare myself to someone "better" (in the sense of secular perspective), or at the least to someone with similar status. Then I put out the cigarette. About five minutes, this is all it took, to be grateful rather than becoming irritated by my life compared to "better" others. So I wrote this story.