Today felt like a good day. The storm that had raged late into the night had finally cleared, leaving behind a bright, sunny morning. The air was crisp, and the streets were alive with the buzz of people heading to work, their faces lit with relief as sunlight pierced through the clouds. Everyone seemed to be thanking the gods for the break in the weather, grateful for the warm rays on their backs.
In a small, dilapidated room, however, the mood was far less joyful. The floor was littered with crumpled clothes and half-empty snack packets, giving the place a sense of neglect. One glance at the mess and it was clear—the person living here wasn't in sync with the rest of the world. On a worn-out metal bed, a man in his late thirties lay sprawled, still lost in sleep.
As the sunlight crept through the window, it crawled across his face, slowly rousing him from his slumber. This was Alex's routine, as predictable as the rising sun. He got up, washed, dressed in his same tired clothes, ate a cup of instant noodles, and headed out for his office—just another day in his unremarkable life.
Standing at the bus stop, Alex gazed blankly at the world around him, waiting for the next bus. His mind was a haze of familiar, dull thoughts when suddenly, a loud screech shattered the morning peace. Tires skidding violently against asphalt. His head snapped toward the noise. Across the street, a large truck was careening wildly, its driver seemingly lost in a desperate attempt to regain control. It swerved at an alarming speed, veering off course, and headed straight toward the footpath.
Chaos erupted. People screamed, running frantically in all directions, trying to escape the truck's deadly path. Amidst the chaos, something caught Alex's eye—a small girl, standing frozen in fear, her cries drowned out by the commotion. She had been separated from her mother, but that wasn't the most pressing issue now. The truck was barreling toward her, and she had no time to react.
Time seemed to slow down. Without thinking, Alex's body moved on instinct. Adrenaline surged through him, and he bolted toward the girl. The world around him blurred as he focused on one goal: saving her.
He reached her just in time, scooping her up and pushing her out of harm's way. The girl was safe—but Alex wasn't. There was no time for him to escape the truck's path. The impact was brutal. The truck struck him with full force before crashing into a pole, leaving Alex's body crumpled on the pavement.
He lay there, his vision dimming as blood pooled around him. The pain was distant, almost muffled, as if his body had already begun to shut down. He knew he was dying, but there was no sadness in his heart. His fading eyes searched the scene around him until they found what they were looking for—the little girl. She was safe. Her mother had found her, and they were huddled together, crying but unharmed.
A small smile tugged at the corners of Alex's lips. At least my death wasn't meaningless, he thought. For the first time in years, his life had meant something. It had mattered.
With that final thought, Alex closed his eyes and let himself drift into the darkness, a peaceful slumber that would take him far from the world he had known.