A/N: I have no idea where this came from, really. I was singing "Will I?" to myself, and I got an idea for a drabble.
Disclaimer: RENT is not mine.
Will I?
I never thought I'd be the last to die. The possibility of living alone in the world never occurred to me. Always surrounded by people who cared, always someone to hold on to...all gone now.
There were times, after the last death, when I doubted it would be worth it to go on. I considered suicide. But that doesn't even matter anymore. Nothing matters. I'm dying anyways. Soon all I'll be is a memory…a memory that will sputter and die, with no one left to remember it. My circle of friends already left. Soon, I'll join them.
Will I?
Will I what, exactly? Will I plead in my last moments? Beg forgiveness for everything I've done over the years? Hope for someone to save me from my imminent fate?
No.
It's too late for that. I wouldn't want to live, even if I was somehow given a choice.
…I don't want to die, either. But everyone dies.
Will I?
Will I lose my dignity? What is dignity, anyway? The result of a life well lived, a life where people looked up to you for guidance? A self-respecting, admirable existence?
Laughable. In that case, I don't have any dignity to lose.
Will someone care?
No. Everyone who would have cared is gone. I cared at their funerals, though each pushed me further and further into a numb state of being where I cared less and less. There's no one left to care. For that matter...I wonder how long it'll take for them to find my body when I die?
Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?
Who knows? I never could predict the future, and I certainly can't diagnose myself. I feel like I'm dead already, but I can still see the apartment, and I can still feel the pain, so I guess I'm not. Most of me hopes I don't wake up. That I'll just die in my sleep. I've been through the pain of watching too many people die in agony, conscious to the world until the very last, to have the slightest desire to die that way. And here, alone, there would be no one to hear my screams.
I can only imagine what my tombstone will say. There won't be anyone to provide a feeling epitaph, and I definitely never arranged any burial plans. I'm not even sure I have a will, not that there's anyone left to leave things to.
I never thought I'd be the last to die. But the final gravestone will join its fellows soon…Roger Davis, Failure and Coward.
A/N: Yeah, I think this kinda sucks...but...I wanna know who everyone thought the narrator was while reading. In order to do that, you have to...review!