The Last Days of Evan Hansen

by Enigmatic Insignia

The near death of classmate Connor Murphy inspires Evan Hansen to create a list of goals for his life—fifteen things to do before the year ends, to ensure that he's truly living. It's definitely not a bucket list. Not at all. First person POV, AU. Previously listed as Insincerely, Me.

1. 0 Days Until

January 2nd of Senior Year

Dear Evan Hansen,

Today is going to be a good day, because, it's the last version of this day you have. Day zero to. Every single day that passes, when it's over, you never have to go through it again. This one a little more than most. You're doing your first solo camping trip—a test run at Ellison State Park. And once you do it, it's done. Not just the first time. The only. It's always the only time you have to do something, and this…

It's weird to consider, how so many people are so afraid of dying, that it stops you from living. It stops you from literally anything. Maybe, I wonder, if that's why so many people my age, they don't realize there's such a thing as becoming their parents. Or their grandparents. Or overdosing, or car accidents, or getting struck by lightning bolts holding an umbrella in an open field. Maybe that's why my classmates, they talk about school shootings like they're a joke. It isn't real to them. It can't be. If it was real. If death was real, then, they'd never do anything. They'd never even try.

Except you. You tried. Somehow, for some reason, you did. For real. Wow. Even though you know what's coming. Because you knew.

The last time you wrote one of these and were really, truly honest, it changed everything. A good luck charm, sort of. Even though it didn't feel like it, back then. Except, someone saw this one. No one can see this one. Because, really, the only thing worse than existing, is making someone else realize you couldn't in a way where they blame themselves. Even though it's not their fault. At all. Even though it has nothing to do with mom. Or Connor or Jared or Miguel. Or Zoe. Or dad, if he even notices. It's just you. They might think that, and they can't. They just can't.

Okay, Jared wouldn't think it's his fault. Never mind. But, everyone else, they can't know. So, Eliza Hamilton-ing myself. Burning the letter. Light the match, one spark, and, then, it's over. It's all over. Finally. You don't have to do this, anymore.

You don't have to do anything at all

Sincerely,

Me