Posthumously by Hailey Morris

It’s been seventeen minutes, and now I start to wonder if anyone has noticed.

I thought about my Facebook post for a while.

Facebook: the one place anyone could find what I wanted to say. Very accessible.

Posted 3:02 am March 28, 2017.

I couldn’t help but pace my room.

Back and forth.

Back.

And forth.

Until my phone light brought me to a halt.

Jimmy liked your post.

“Wow, he’s up at this hour?” I said to an empty room, a lifeless body.

This exact thought reminded me that who would be up at this hour?

Who would care about me, especially in the haunting hour of night.

I decided to pace six more times then lay back down on my floor and stare at the ceiling.

This was one of my favorite and most popular spot to lay. I even rearranged my whole room just so I could have enough space to lay out my whole body. Laying here, I realized that the sunrise takes a lot longer when you’re dead. I could see my own body next to me, an interesting form of company.

While laying on floor there, I could see the sun peak through the shades. Slightly tilted and muddied by the make shift curtain.

Little slit of light start to break through, gleaming over my room, starting from the bottom, slowly moving, filling to the rest of my room.

I check my phone again, because I am anxious being.

Five likes and three hearts. Better than most post I guess.

It was pretty sad and pretty sad and preachy in its entirety. Some of it read:

“Since I started using Facebook in 2008, I’ve noticed that a lot of people here use it as a platform to discuss their relationship problems or complain about not being able to find a decent relationship. I don’t judge, and I understand where they are coming from. This post is in the same vein, but different.

I get it now. I understand why people don’t (usually) like me, from acquaintances, possible sex/love interests, and even close friends at times….”

I stopped it there because the rest of it was too ballsy and real for even me to admit to now.