If luck were a woman, she certainly smiled at me today. As soon as I left the house, I found 100 reais on the street. I got a 30% raise at work, and the woman from my job, whom I invited out, accepted. Nothing could ruin this day.
That was the thought of a young man listening to Imagine Dragons at full volume with headphones on.
Of course, the world always likes to bring down those who are happy, especially those who raise a red flag over themselves.
As I was crossing the bridge, on my way home, I felt an ominous sensation, but I acted to ignore it, since I was in a good mood.
The "me" of the future might not regret this decision, but the "me" of the present surely will.
Vroom-Vroom!
Boom-Boom!
A symphony of chaos began to reach my ears, as if God had simply decided to blow the trumpets of the apocalypse right there.
As soon as I turned to see what was happening, the only thing I could see was a truck with the Pepsi logo, out of control, mere centimeters from hitting me.
Bam!
And before I could register anything, I was falling toward the water, with my body completely broken.
Splash!
They say that when you're close to death, your whole life flashes before your eyes.
If I had any doubts before, I can now confirm:
My life wasn't anything special. I was born into a normal, loving family. We had an average income, but it was more than enough for us to be happy.
On my 12th birthday, March 25, 2020, my mother died of the coronavirus, and that's when everything started to fall apart.
I started picking fights over small things at school, became addicted to music and games.
I went from being a charismatic, happy, and a little shy child to a grumpy, short-tempered, foul-mouthed, and hateful person. I intimidated as many people as I could at school to vent my frustration and hide my sadness.
My father started working overtime to keep his mind distracted, spending money on drinks, drugs, etc.
Since that day, we haven't exchanged a single word. He'd leave money on the table every day, and I made do with what I had.
I would always clean my mother's room and spend a good portion of the day there.
On my 16th birthday, while cleaning out my mother's drawer, the old wood couldn't hold up and broke. There, I found a hidden diary.
It depicted every day of her life since I was born: photos, opinions, what she hoped for the future, etc.
After her death, this was the day I cried the most.
That's when I realized I couldn't continue like this. I decided to change for the better, to put my life back on track.
I stopped bullying, apologized to everyone, and began paying attention in class to try and get into a good college.
Around the same time, I began trying to bring my father back. It wasn't that hard; he was probably as tired of that lifestyle as I was.
He slowly stopped smoking and drinking.
But on my 16th birthday, I had just returned from a job interview to work as an administrative assistant when I found some police officers standing in front of my house.
That's when my world, which had been set right, shattered again. Not in the way where everything breaks into pieces, but in the worse way: the silent kind, where, when you touch it, everything crumbles.
Since that day, I developed the bad habit of drinking and started keeping myself busy like a madman to avoid drowning in sadness.
And now, exactly on my 17th birthday, I am broken, drowning to the sound of Imagine Dragons. While I curse in my mind all the curses I can remember for this damned day, which is my birthday, and give every possible reason why Coca-Cola is better than Pepsi.
And that was the end of Arthur Vasconcellos's life.