I only have less than a week to live, as told by the doctor.

I'm not really struggling to get ready for death, in fact, I'd be a little delighted to. I don't have friends anyway. My mother will just cry for a day or two and get over it, as what I told her. I don't have a boyfriend or anything in particular. I don't have a job to leave behind, or a debt. I have a boring life, to put it simply. Just when I decided to put 'thrill' on it, is the day I was told that I only have a few weeks left to live.

I was diagnosed to cancer since I was fifteen. And it kills every part of me. It hurts, everywhere, since I have bones everywhere in my body. I don't have anything to do with my life anymore, just one thing.

I want to write a letter to a stranger.

And so, since I've been sitting on my bed every day since I lived on earth, everyone here in this world is a stranger to me, except for my mom. And everyday, I just glance down my window pane and look at every single person walking down the street. And just this summer, a family moved to the house next to us. They are a family of three, with this green-eyed boy as their son.

Well, he jogs every day, likes wearing black hoodie jackets (as what I have observed) and he has a muscular body. He has this curly strand of hair on his forehead, like Superman's. He has intimidating deep green eyes and I heard someone calling him once, Cal.

Though he's not the 'perfect' stranger to me because I've known him since summer (of course, not personally), I think he'll be the perfect one to write letters about.

I crinkled my nose and grabbed my pen from the corner of my bed table. I ironed the crisp paper with my hands and poured the ink on the first line.

Cal,

Hi. I'm Samantha Brooke, that sick lady living beside your home. I'm your neighbor, though I've fully known you don't know me. Well, to put it simply and precisely, I kind of stalk you every day.

NO! IT'S NOT WHAT YOU'RE THINKING RIGHT NOW! Don't ever think of me putting secret cameras all over your room! No! It's not that kind of stalking.

You see I stay on my room every day, and I have this large windown pane around the corner, where I can see everything outside. I can even point where the trash bins, bonsais and plants eyes closed.

The thing is, I see you every day. You jog around the street every 6 in the morning, with your black hoodie jacket. Frankly, it's a dull taste of hoodie, dude. But it actually calls my eyes every time. Maybe because it's just the most unfairly thing in sight.

Okay so I've known yoir name when some blondie called you 'Cal'. I don't really say it's your name, since you're an actual stranger to me but I assumed it is. You're maybe wondering why I'm writing you this letter when I barely know you. Of course, writing to a stranger is just utterly out of the normal, but it's the last thing I want to do before my not-so-good life ends.

This is not a suicide note, or my last premonition. It's just a simple letter about anything I could think of right now. I can tell you how I was born, where I was born or when I was born, but I don't personally think you'll like it. My life is the definition of boredom, if you'd ask. I just lived my life screaming in pain. Lol.

Well... what's more to say? Oh, right. Well, this is my last activity (?) on earth. Before I could ascend to anywhere, I want to add 'thrill' in my boring life. And when I say boring, as in fucking boring (don't let my mother read this or else she'll ground me in heaven).

That's the weirdest last wish on earth, I know. But I can't really think of anything to do in my last day here on earth. This was actually on my bucket list and I saw this and I decided to make this as my last activity so that I can do at least one thing on my bucket list.

Okay so congratulations you've made it this far! I know this is quite boring and I know you won't care even though I tell you how my bone hurts right now but lol.

Okay so here's the other deal. I came right through my bucket list and found another condition in pursuing this craziness.

Even though I might be dead by the time you read this, please reply. OKAY, I KNOW WRITING TO A DECEASED IS THE CREEPIEST THING BUT, just think of it as my last wish for you to do (even though I don't mean anything to you lol). You can make it to me thru my mom or you can personally go to my grave and we'll talk about things.

Okay, that's a weird thing to say and you might be shivering in fear and might be planning on crushing or even crumpling this piece of shit.

But lol, let me send my love to you, stranger.

Waiting for your reply in the afterlife perhaps,
Samantha Brooke, your stranger neighbor

*****

I just tried to make a pastime 😂😂 AND CONGRATULATIONS FOR REACHING THE END OF SAMATHA'S BORING LETTER!!! SO HERE'S AN ICE CREAM FOR YOU 🍦

LET'S ADD SOME FRIES 🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟

Welp. Hope you have a good day's snack! 🐒🐷🐷🐷