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Want to hear a joke? Last week, I tried to kill myself. Beginning of sophomore year, about a week after Halloween. Hilarious right? But that isn’t even the punchline: It didn’t work! And no one cared! Dear God I am laughing my ass off right now. No one cared. Phew, man that stuff is good.
You see, in that age of millennials, I of course decided to post my suicide note on twitter. Well, my sorry ass got messages back like, “lol,” “Lmao,” “Do it,” and “Same tho.”
So I did it. Well, I stupidly, somehow, survived the pills! Like, seriously, how dumb do you have to be to fail at killing yourself? How could I calculate that s*** wrong? 50 pills, times water intake, carry the one, add… Oh my God! I am so dumb. I forgot height! What a mistake!
Well, anyways, apparently I was oblivious and didn’t know that everyone says they want to die.
I was posting a relatable meme!
I was lowkey joining a trend. With wanting, TO KILL MYSELF! That tweet got like, 30k likes and 25k retweets. I am twitter famous! Who knew that all I had to do was try to kill myself. Man, people should try this more often!
Weeks went by and my God. My whole life had changed. I was called by Ellie. The Ellie Digiorno! Can you believe that? She wanted me to go on her show. I clearly said yes.
So I go on the show, Ellie does her random dancing business and calls me out onto stage. Those white chairs are surprisingly comfortable. Of course she shows my tweet to the audience. They all laugh and whisper to each other about how relatable it is.
Ellie crosses her legs and looks over to me intently. “So how did you react to becoming famous overnight?”
I clear my voice and glance towards the audience. “Well actually, I was extremely surprised. I never expected anything like this to happen.”
Ellie leans forwards, elbows resting on her knees. I notice the constant bounce of her leg. “Well you had to know something would come of it. How did you come up with a tweet that is so comedic and relatable?”
I look to the floor, I can’t look in her eyes. “You see, I didn’t come up with it. Uhm…” I glance towards the audience, feeling the pressure of the cameras and the people glaring at me. “It was a suicide note… Well, the suicide didn’t work, but I woke up to fame.”
“It wasn’t a joke?” Ellie’s moth lays agape, as the audience gasps at this accusation.
“Well, uhm n-not really? Like, I actually wanted to do it, and I tried. But I guess everyone thought it was funny and relatable. So I just went along with it.”
Ellie’s face shows a mixture between terror, worry, and anger. How she could feel all of them, I don’t know. My eyes glance down to her hands as she quickly tenses them into fists. Ellie slowly leans in, with a fake smile plastered across her face, and whispers in my ear, too quiet for the mics or the audience to pick up “How can you joke about something like this? Lying about being relatable is a horrible thing to do. You disgust me.” She leans away, and turns her fake smile towards the camera.
“Well folks, that is all the time we have today! Tune in next week for an exclusive interview with Kathy Terry about her new folk sound.”
I don’t really listen to what she is saying.
Everything kind of fades out.
Well, fades to black really.
Aka, I passed the hell out.
When I woke up, I was back in the dressing room. Lights and security surround me.
“S***, the kid finally woke up. You have been out for two hours.” The guard right in front of me leans down and places his hand on my shoulder.
“The shows done, productions gone home, you need to get out of here.”
Security rushes me out. I guess they already contacted an Uber, as it’s there waiting for me.
I jump in and get ready for the long ride home. Two hours just to think. That’s not good. I pull my phone out of my pocket, and my screen is full.
Notification after notification after notification. Hundreds of thousands of tweets aimed at me.
“You are a horrible person. Just kill yourself.”
“How could you lie like that? I thought you were a relatable person, go die”
“Relatable my ass”
“Just go kill yourself, you worthless trash”
Why is this happening. I never wanted to be “relatable.” What the hell is with this s***. Why me? I just wanted to say goodbye, and I get this in return? 15 minutes of fame and then a lifetime of torture? This isn’t going to end. My life is on display on every form of social media. My life is ruined.
S***, what do I do? I’ve spaced out on the ride so far, and haven’t even heard my drive talking. We have already made it to the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Hey kid, Kid!” The driver yells over his shoulder.
I switch out of my trance in an instant. “Sorry, I was kind of dazed out. It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah, no s***” He sputters out. “You’re that kid that pretended to be relatable. Man, you screwed up. I never thought I’d have to drive a fraud like you. You are a disgrace.”
The world begins to slip away. It tumbles and turns. Constant switches to black evade my vision.
Looking out the window at the traffic on the bridge.
Open door of the car.
I have no control over my body.
Cars, running through cars.
Lots of water.
“Hey!” I snap out of the trance as a lady yells out her car window. I’ve somehow made it to the edge of the bridge, standing on the opposite side of the railing.
I glance at the row of cars in front of me, everyone has their phones out recording me. Flashes burst into my eyes.
“You should do it. You lying asshole.” She must have seen the show. Who hasn’t seen the show? No one.
And I let go.
“Hello everyone and welcome back to the Ellie Digiorno show. Last week we all covered a story of a boy who pretended to be relatable on social media. He went viral overnight. We showcased him on our episode and just after we aired, another media storm appeared on his page.
Videos surfaced of him jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. The regular media goers all pooled in and we all agree that we are sorry we didn’t get your joke. You are relatable. And this video shows it. We all feel the same.
Thanks for letting us find something relatable in you. Goodnight folks!”