If I Die, Everything will be Alright
Author: gαвяιєℓ яσмαησᵐᵉᶜ🖌️🎨
Part 1: Introduction
“If I die… everything will be alright.”
A girl sat alone in the corner, her knees pulled close to her chest, staring at nothing as the same thought echoed again and again inside her tired mind.
If I die… will everything finally be alright?
Her name was Eva.
Eva lived in a society where everyone judged her — her parents, her siblings, her so-called friends, and even strangers who didn’t know anything about her. Every day she asked herself the same question:
What am I supposed to do now?
“Hi, guys… I’m Eva,” she said in her mind, repeating the same introduction she always gave people. “I’m a student. I live with my parents and my siblings. I’m a very happy person, always smiling, always making others laugh with my silly jokes.”
She paused.
A sad smile appeared on her lips as she whispered to herself,
“…Well, that’s my outside introduction.”
Then she lowered her eyes.
“Inside… I’m a silent person. I became quiet the day I realized how cruel this world can be. The day I learned that love doesn’t really exist. The day I discovered that people talk sweetly in front of you, but curse you behind your back. The day I understood that people judge others without ever looking at themselves in the mirror.”
She exhaled shakily.
“Yes… that day,” Eva whispered, her sad smile still holding on, even though her heart wasn’t.
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Part 2: Judging
When I was in seventh grade, I don’t know why, but I constantly felt lonely—heartbroken, even—despite not having a boyfriend, and not even being interested in one. It was a different kind of ache. A silent one.
I never felt comfortable sharing my feelings with anyone—not my friends, not even my family. I always thought they wouldn’t understand my pain, my effort, or the things I was going through. I was scared they would judge me, laugh at me, or simply brush my feelings aside.
And that fear kept me quiet.
“Like yesterday,” Ava said, “I was wearing a pair of earrings I really loved. But my friend looked at me and said, ‘Ava, don’t wear those. You look ugly in them.’
My first thought was, What the hell? What’s your problem with my earrings? Are they hurting you or disturbing your life somehow?
It was such a small thing, but it stayed with me.”
Small judgments hurt… but the ones from parents hurt even more. When the people who raised you criticize the way you look or the choices you make, something inside you breaks a little.
After being judged by my parents and my friends, what should I expect from society? A society where people search for flaws in everyone, and where making someone uncomfortable is almost normal?
That is why I chose silence.
Because sometimes, the fear of judgment is louder than our own voice.
---Part 3: Lonely
Loneliness is a strange feeling.
It doesn’t always arrive with a reason, and it doesn’t wait for the right moment—it just appears, quietly, like a shadow following you everywhere.
There were days when I sat in a classroom full of people and still felt completely alone. Everyone laughed, talked, shared stories… and I pretended to be part of it. But inside, it felt like I was standing on the edge of a glass wall—watching everyone live their normal lives while I stayed trapped behind it.
I wanted to speak. I wanted to tell someone what was happening inside my chest.
But every time I opened my mouth, my voice disappeared before the words could come out.
Because who would listen?
Who would actually understand?
And who would care enough to stay?
So I kept everything to myself.
I smiled when I felt like crying, acted strong when I was breaking, and pretended everything was fine just to avoid the questions I couldn’t answer.
And slowly… something inside me changed.
I began to distance myself from everyone. Not because I hated them, but because I felt unwanted beside them. I still don’t fully understand why, but I didn’t feel like being with them anymore. I kept thinking, Why should I stay close to people who don’t want to stay close to me?
People think loneliness means having no one around you.
But the truth is… loneliness is having people around and still feeling like no one really sees you.
Every night, I lay awake with the same thought:
Why do I feel so alone, even when I’m not?
Maybe it was the fear of being judged.
Maybe it was the silence I forced on my own heart.
Or maybe… it was the simple truth that no one ever asked if I was okay.
And I never learned how to say that I wasn’t.
Part 4: Hurt
Hurt doesn’t always start with big things.
Sometimes, it begins with small wounds—tiny comments, quiet criticisms, silent disappointments—that slowly stack up inside the heart until they feel heavy enough to break something.
For me, the hurt came softly at first.
A harsh word from a friend.
An unexpected scolding at home.
A feeling that no matter what I did, it was never enough for anyone.
I told myself it didn’t matter… but it did. It always did.
Sometimes a single sentence could echo in my mind for days.
A careless comment could make me question everything about myself.
People spoke without thinking, not realizing their words had sharp edges, and those edges cut deeper than they ever understood.
But the worst part… was pretending it didn’t hurt.
I smiled when people laughed at my choices.
I stayed silent when someone pointed out my flaws like it was entertainment.
I acted strong—even when I felt something inside me collapsing.
I kept asking myself,
Why do their words stay with me? Why does it hurt so much?
And the only answer I found was this:
It hurts because I cared.
Because their opinion mattered to me, even when I wished it didn’t.
But the truth about hurt is… ignoring it doesn’t make it disappear.
It sits quietly inside you, like a small crack in glass—almost invisible at first, but growing a little more every time someone says something thoughtless.
And without even realizing it, those tiny cracks inside me started joining together.
A heaviness formed.
A pressure.
A slow, quiet breaking.
Some days, it felt like I was holding myself together with nothing but shaking hands.
Smiling on the outside… while inside, something kept falling apart.
No one noticed.
No one asked.
No one looked closely enough to see the difference between my real smile and the one I wore like a mask.
And maybe that’s what hurt the most—
not the words,
not the mistakes,
not the judgments…
But the fact that I was hurting so deeply,
and the world continued as if nothing was wrong.
Part 5: Overthinking
Overthinking is like a storm that never stops.
It begins with one small thought—something simple, something harmless—
but then it grows, twisting itself into hundreds of questions I never wanted to ask.
I could be sitting quietly, doing nothing, and suddenly my mind would start replaying every moment I ever felt embarrassed, judged, ignored, or hurt.
A single sentence someone said weeks ago…
a tiny mistake I made years ago…
a moment no one else even remembers…
My brain remembers all of it.
And it refuses to let it go.
I kept asking myself things I didn’t have answers to:
Did they say that because they dislike me?
Did I do something wrong?
Why did they look at me like that?
What if everyone secretly thinks I’m stupid?
What if I don’t belong anywhere?
And the worst part?
The more I thought, the deeper I sank into those thoughts.
Overthinking makes every small situation feel like a disaster.
A simple message left on “read” felt like rejection.
A delayed reply felt like someone was annoyed with me.
A normal conversation felt like I said something wrong without realizing it.
Even when nothing was happening in my life…
my mind was busy creating problems that didn’t exist.
I tried to distract myself, pretend I was fine, keep my mind busy—but the thoughts always came back.
They waited for the quiet moments.
They waited for nighttime, when everything was silent and I had no one to distract me except myself.
And suddenly, the thoughts turned into battles I was fighting alone.
I questioned my worth.
I questioned my friendships.
I questioned if anyone actually cared.
I questioned myself—again and again—until I didn’t know what to believe anymore.
Overthinking didn’t just exhaust my mind…
it exhausted my heart.
Because thinking too much about everything made me feel like I wasn’t enough for anyone, not even myself.
And that is the cruel thing about overthinking—
it doesn’t show you the truth.
It only shows you your fears.
Part 6: Depression
Depression doesn’t arrive suddenly.
It doesn’t knock on the door or announce itself.
It grows slowly, quietly, like a shadow spreading through every corner of your life.
At first, I thought I was just tired.
Just stressed.
Just overwhelmed.
But then I noticed how the things that used to make me smile… didn’t feel the same anymore.
The things I loved became exhausting.
The things that used to excite me felt empty.
And the days became heavier, like I was carrying a weight no one else could see.
Depression felt like waking up tired, even after sleeping for hours.
It felt like forcing myself to get out of bed because staying there made me feel guilty, but moving felt impossible.
It felt like drowning silently—breathing on the outside, sinking on the inside.
People asked, “Are you okay?”
And every time, I smiled and lied.
Because how could I explain something I didn’t understand myself?
How could I tell them that I felt nothing and everything at the same time?
How could I admit that even simple tasks felt like climbing a mountain?
Depression made me feel like I was fading.
Like my energy, my confidence, my voice… everything was slipping away piece by piece.
I wasn’t myself anymore, but I didn’t know how to go back.
And the scariest part was how well I hid it.
No one noticed the battles I fought in silence.
No one saw the moments I stared at the wall, lost in thoughts that scared me.
No one heard the quiet cries, the shaking breath, the emptiness inside.
I felt trapped inside my own mind—
a place that used to feel safe, but now felt like a cage.
Depression wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t dramatic.
It was quiet, heavy, and slow…
a sadness that didn’t have a reason,
a numbness that I couldn’t explain,
a darkness that made everything feel far away.
And even though the world continued moving,
I felt stuck—
like time had stopped just for me.
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Part 7: Death
There came a time when the hurt inside me grew so overwhelming that I didn’t know what I wanted anymore.
It wasn’t just sadness… it was exhaustion.
A deep, silent exhaustion that made me feel like I was cracking from the inside.
I didn’t want more pain —
I just didn’t know how to carry the pain I already had.
Sometimes my mind whispered things I never wanted to think.
It twisted my feelings, confused my heart, and made me believe that maybe disappearing would finally bring me the peace I couldn’t find anywhere else.
It wasn’t about wanting death itself…
It was about wanting a place where everything stopped hurting.
A place where I didn’t have to pretend.
Where I didn’t have to be strong.
Where the voices in my head finally went quiet.
My thoughts became dark, not because I loved the darkness,
but because I was desperate for a moment of silence inside myself.
And sometimes, in that darkness, a dangerous lie formed in my mind:
Maybe if I wasn’t here… things would be easier. Maybe the world would finally make sense without me struggling in it.
But that was never the truth.
It was just the voice of pain — not the voice of reality.
Because deep down, a small part of me still wanted to be saved.
Still wanted to be heard.
Still wanted someone to hold me and say,
“You’re not alone. You matter. You’re allowed to feel this way.”
My story wasn’t about wanting death —
it was about wanting the suffering to end.
Wanting someone to notice the battles I fought in silence.
And that is why…
“If I die, everything will be alright”
was never the real ending.
It was a thought born from pain,
not a truth born from life.
End.
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