Lying on my deathbed, my breathing slows, and my heart weakens. Looking back at the life I’ve lived, I feel… well, relieved. Mostly.


    There are some regrets, of course, but what’s life without a little regret? It’s like a turkey without gravy—perfectly edible, but missing a lot of taste.


    You could say it was an experience of a lifetime. Or, you know, my lifetime.


    My philosophy was to live and experience every moment I had. Which, given the circumstances, was about to be significantly fewer moments. After saying my goodbyes and looking at my loved ones one final time, I know, albeit unwillingly, that it’s time.


    As I slowly close my eyes, my life flashes before me.


    It’s a highlight reel, but without the cheesy music.


    I was born near the turn of the century on a planet called Earth.


    Pretty standard stuff.


    I was lucky to have loving parents and a happy childhood, which allowed me to grow up running under the sun, making new friends and new connections. It was the most carefree time of my life.


    Back then, my biggest worry was whether I’d get to stay up late to watch TV.


    Ah, simpler times.


    School was tough, but with wonderful friends, we helped each other through all the ups and downs of being a teenager, eagerly anticipating the freedom and responsibilities of adult life. Turns out, “responsibilities” was the keyword there.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Adult life was… different from expectations. There was much less freedom. I was burdened with the crushing responsibilities of living—bills, work, social life, and lack of sleep.


    Adapting, but not losing myself to the norms of society, took a lot of courage and determination. Through all the craziness, I squeezed in time for my own hobbies. You gotta have a little “me time,” even if it’s just playing a game of D&D with friends.


    The love of my life appeared early in my adulthood. After experiencing parts of life together, we realized we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. With much anxiety and excitement, we ended up marrying and having a child.


    I’ll never forget the day I became a parent—the day when all the joy and dread of being a parent started. Every moment with my family was precious: the crying, the feeding, the homework, the chores, the lessons, the events, the concerts, and the vacations—they were everything to me.


    I would do anything for them, even throwing my morals and reasoning out the window sometimes to defend them whenever anyone wronged my loved ones.


    Hey, sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.


    There were tough times, with all the crazy geopolitics, wars, and different economic cycles on this planet. Many times, I wished I could do something, but I wasn’t ready to give up what I had.


    Focusing on living my life, surrounding myself in the comfort cocoon of my family and friends, somehow everything worked out for me.


    I’ve always lived with compassion; it felt wonderful to have helped someone in their time of need.


    Having lived on Earth for more than eighty years, my life was starting to lose steam and slow down. Even if there wasn’t as much excitement to experience for the first time anymore, there was still much I could do.


    In retirement, I kept busy learning and working. It gave me a sense of purpose, and my loved ones all supported me as much as they could.


    At this age, many would say I was very wise and smart. I saw myself as a very reasonable and practical person.


    Being able to control my emotions and impulses very well kept me healthy. I’ve always loved to laugh and enjoy life’s better moments. They say laughter is the best medicine.


    All this for a happy ending. This is it, the story ends here, right?


    Well… yeah. Unless there’s a sequel. But I rather doubt it.