"okay."

I'd laugh . "Okay." At least it would be me, and not one of my family members, one of my friends, or even one of my pets: it'd be me, I could almost live with that. Assuming I had a bit of time before my body gave out, I'd tell everyone what I thought of them, honestly, so they knew where they stood in my eyes: my best friend, I hate you. My parents, I hate you. That guy that threw my confession in my face? Oh, I'm not even sure.

And, of course, I'd plan my funeral down to the flowers I'd receive. My sick sense of humor wouldn't let me pass that up, no.