Was it life?

Life had somehow "driven" me, and I decided to withdraw. With gas. And I didn't care that the building was multi-story, or that other residents might suffer along with me. But when life "drives you," the last thing you think about is others.

So, I drank a bottle of wine to gain courage, looked at my watch (to record the time I was leaving)—8 AM—locked myself in the kitchen, and turned on all the burners on the gas stove. I lay down on the floor, clearly aware that I would fall asleep and never wake up. I fell asleep.

I woke up feeling like I'd slept for two hours—a wonderful night's sleep.

The only thought in my head was: this can't be happening. I slowly got up with this thought and looked around—why hadn't it worked?!

I discovered that the window and the door were open (even though I'd closed everything, of course), meaning there was a slight draft near the floor. There was no wind outside in the morning, so I couldn't figure out why the window was open. The oven burner was off. All the top burners on the stove were on, but the oven burner was off!

Surprised, I went into my room to check the time. It was 8 a.m.

I didn't attempt suicide again. The smell of gas was noticeable for the next six months—I could smell it from meters away.

And sometimes I wonder—what if my attempt was successful? In real life, they found me, buried me, mourned me... But in the parallel life where I woke up, I "live" now without dreams, feelings, or purpose. I'm tossed around the world, searching for something for my soul—something to feel. There's no happiness, no unhappiness, just utter dullness and boredom in everything...