After I was diagnosed with stomach cancerI booked a funeral director online.
I wanted him to take care of my body after I pass away.
They say if you prepare well before death,you’ll be reborn into a better life.

I will never be that pitiful woman who is unloved and unnoticed again.
I packed my bags,left home,and found a place to end it all.
Then I got a message from the mortician:
“Something came up.Can’t make it to your place on time.”
Seriously, I’m already half-dead, and you’re bailing on me.？
As I slit my wrists,I sent the mortician my location.

“304 Garden Street,Harborview.Don’t get the address wrong.”
“Please come in two hours.”
Two weeks before my diagnosis,I found Nathan Cole online.
He offered full-service funeral care,available on call.

Old folks say a proper send-off ensures a good rebirth.I believed it.
I saved up for months to buy my“death insurance.”
But as I sent the message,Nathan called.
A deep voice came through.“Sorry,I’m tied up this afternoon.Can’t make it.Want a refund?”
I was so angry I could barely hold the phone.
“You promised you’d be there! I snapped, my lips trembling.I wouldn’t have trusted him if not for his glowing reviews.
Now he’s ditching me?Where am I supposed to find someone to collect my body?
My voice cracked,likely from crying.
He paused.“Or we can work out compensation.How much do you want?”
Money?I’m dying here,and you‘re ghosting me！
My hands shook, with blood soaking my skirt and dripping onto the floor.
Dizzy,I forced out,“But I’m dying today.
I’ll pay extra if you come.It won’t take long.”
I wasn’t greedy—just needed someone to handle my body.
“After I’m gone,just take me to the crematorium.That’s it.Can you do it?I’m cutting my wrists now.There’s no time to find someone else.”
I begged,heart racing,terrified he’d refuse.
He went quiet,then seized on mywords
.“You’re killing yourself?”
I blinked,answering honestly,“Who else would it be?”