My name is Alex Friedreich...or at least it was. After spending 25 years of my life as a police officer in a large metropolitan area, I finally retired. Suddenly faced with the problem of 'too much' free time, I got into video games.

Using my savings and a portion of my pension, I had bought and built my very own high spec gaming PC. It took me 2 years and cost a surprisingly large amount of money, but I was certain that now that I had the very best parts, I could become a 'gamer'.

I had played games before, occasionally playing multiplayer games with my children was one of my favorite pastimes, so I wasn't new to the concept of gaming.

However, this would be different, because unlike the times were I only played for up to an hour every other day, this would become my official hobby, something to do whenever I had the free time.

And so I did, for the next 10 years, until I was 55, I spent my time playing an unholy amount of games, I had even become a streamer, and though I was relatively small with an average view count of 5,000 or so people, it was an incredible accomplishment to me.

So why am I telling you this? Well, as it would turn out, I had been terminally ill. Cancer...it was discovered too late, being stage IV when it was discovered, I had at most, 6 months to live.

After my diagnosis, I had held a farewell stream, though not nearly as important as my family, my followers were still important to me.

Ironically, my last stream had been my most well-performing one, hitting 80,000 views before we ended, and peaking just below 100,000 views.

After my final stream, which lasted for close to ten hours, I contacted my family.

I had always maintained a close relationship with my children, and though my wife and I had separated, we were still close friends, rather, we were best friends.

After I told them, they were devastated, so much so in fact that I had felt guilty for even being afflicted with the disease.

The look on my daughter's faces as they bawled their eyes out, the look of my son trying best to hold in his tears, yet failing, of my ex-wife holding onto them for support, as she cried almost louder than our children, it was heartbreaking.

And that same scene would unfold again, 7 months later, as I was on my deathbed. I had chosen to not go through any types of treatments and therapies for the sake of spending time with my family. We had traveled the world, doing things we'd never thought we'd do and I'd even created and completed a bucket list.

However, it had now come to an end. As my consciousness slipped away, I held onto my family's hands. I looked at each of them attentively, as they bawled and wailed.

My time had come, I could no longer stay with them, hell I'd even gotten a month extra, so I couldn't complain.

My ex-wife, no, my best friend gripped my hand tighter than she had been.

"Alex...please...stay with us..."

"Ah, I'd love to...but I'm sorry...I'll have to...leave first. Though...I wish I could've...seen Joe, one last time..."

"Joe? Who's that Alex?"

I smirked. My time had come, and my consciousness was held on by a thread, but no matter what, I would finish my joke.

Elena, my best friend, had grown up with me, so she would get the joke, and though my son had been born far after the joke had been deemed "cringe", he at least knew of its existence. My daughters wouldn't get it, but that's fine, Elena and my son would at least get a chuckle, relieving somewhat of their pain.

"Joe...Joe Mama hahahaha"

I let out a hoarse laughter, but before I could even gauge their reactions, I could feel death's embrace, and my vision had left me, my breathing had stopped, and I could only hear my heartbeat, as it slowly stopped beating.

I had died.