Chronophobia

She wondered if there was enough time. So young, and yet she feared time was running out. Her life was empty, not having done enough with the time she had. She did nothing. She didn’t want to do anything. She longed for something, but she had no desire. So young, and yet she was already tired. She wondered why she was even here. If she died tomorrow, would her life, or lack thereof, make any difference? Her existence hasn’t changed the world. She was just another number in the population. A name with no story. Just another death certificate on the pile. 

Although beautiful, her life has no meaning. No destiny, no purpose, no goals, no love, no future. No hate, no boredom, no fear, no happiness, no sadness, no anger, no contentment. She felt nothing. 

Why is she even still here? With nothing to offer, she idly stands in the world, taking up the space without giving anything back. In a world full of people, she blends into the crowd. She doesn’t stand out. She doesn’t exist. Her death will make no impact, just as her life hasn’t. So why hasn’t she gone yet? What is keeping her here? Is she waiting for time to just run out? The long and slow wait for the clock to ding. 

Maybe she is afraid. Afraid that in death, she will continue to waste away in nothingness like she has done in life.