Phoenix

 In a hospital room, an old man was lying on a bed. In only a week or two, his life would end. The end… It was the only thing he could think about. He wondered what his life would have been if he had done something worthwhile. His whole life was unremarkable: no achievements, no goals, just an existence that no one, not even himself, ever cared about. The only thing close to him was his loyal pet phoenix, a prized possession.

 His sister would visit every now and then and pray, pleading to god to grant him a good afterlife. Although the old man never believed in god himself, the only afterlife he could imagine of was the nothingness. He thought to himself that there wouldn’t be any difference once he died, his life was nothing after all. Nearing his end, a flood of tears streamed down his face, his regret overwhelming his mind.

 When he took in his final breaths, his phoenix began to flap its wings, which burned brightly like a star. The man screamed– his heart ached, being mocked by the immortal being, it was unfair. The bird only mocked him even more, their bright flames eternally lit. Unable to contain his jealousy, the man jumped from his bed and strangled them with the little strength he had. The man began to chuckle in pain, not even noticing he took his final breath. And with his eyes piercing the phoenix, he collapsed right then and there.