The Suicide Notes

Suicide - The act of intentionally causing one's own death

Please, sit down. Let's have a chat. She wanted one. She doesn't want one now. I don't get it. All I did was throw her around a bit in my basement. She didn't seem to like that. She started shouting. She started screaming. She started bleeding. She started dying.

I tried to stop myself. I really did. But, I was just so angry. The flickering light above me isn't really helping my mood either. Off, on. Off, on. She was lying against the wall. She looked so peaceful. When someone murders another, they claim its for the 'thrill' of it. I however see it as redemption. A way out. Life. It's all one big game. Play it wisely, and you should live well. Play it badly, and you shouldn't expect to have a good ride. Play it without the rules, and you'll have the most fun.

Creek. This tattered, wooden stool was taking it's toll. Stupid thing. I stood up and threw it across the room in anger. Why does everything bad happen to me. WHY. I couldn't stand it. She on the other hand, didn't have to deal with it no more. I walked in anger towards her.
'Your welcome,' I whispered, 'No one is ever going to hurt you again. No one,'. I smiled. I wiped the sweat of my brow. This was it. All the build up came to this. I couldn't believe I done it. I jogged towards the corner where my desk was. Nothing special, just a few books scattered around it, few pictures of her, here and there. I pulled out the cushioned wooden chair and took out a notepad. Wow, number forty one. I was building up a collection. At least people will understand. They'll know i'm not crazy. She brought this upon herself. She drove me to this. I had no choice. You understand right?

Don't worry, I did my research. People at the library must of thought I was crazy. Crazy, crazy, crazy. Every time I searched the word 'suicide', people would give me these strange looks. Looks of concern. I call them strange though. Why is the word 'suicide' associated with such negativity? It's a get out clause. Others are so determined to get to the top, the screw up others and drive them to depression.
'Oh, it's fine, you can start over,' one would say. Start over? I couldn't understand that concept. You work so hard for the majority of your life just to be screwed other by a trusted friend. And the only advice these psychologists could give is, start over. No. Start over is not a option.

I remember fondly, one day I was walking to work, and an old, homeless person was laying across the pavement. He was shivering, dirty and miserable. I didn't know what to feel. Pity or anger. We, as babies, are brought into a perfect world. That's what they claim. We spend years of our life in school. For what? To memorize a subject in which we get graded for. What about the important things such as taxes and mortgaging. Buying or selling stocks. This is the money that makes the world go round. Why wait? I'm so confused. Life is confusing. We're building a society. A society for who? For our children's, children's, children?

Argh. I need to get out. Where to? Where do we actually go? No where. We stop functioning. We die. This overdeveloped cell dies. Mean? No, it's the truth.

--- Fifteen Hours Earlier ---

'Sarah,' I shouted. She didn't hear me, didn't acknowledge me. It was busy. Morning rush hour in the busy little city known as London. A sea of black suits swarmed around me. We were both waiting for the train to London Bridge station. We both work in The Shard you see. Wonderful building. A true reflection of human achievements...

I still had my cup of coffee in one hand.
'Sarah,' I shouted. Again, nothing. I hurried past, dodging one suited person at a time. I managed to reach hear and stood directly behind her. Her dark, blonde hair was freely hanging. She was wearing her black jacket, matching it with a white skirt, wearing black tights. That's her look. Whilst I was still admiring her, she turned and yelped.
'Michael, god you scared,' she said, she managed to calm down a little.
'Yeah, I called you, you must not of heard,' I replied. I know she heard. She seemed embarrassed to be around me. Before she had a chance to reply the train was coming in and the platform became a tuna packet.
'See you on the other side,' she smiled and disappeared within the crowd of people. I had to get on the same train as her. As the doors opened, the crowed all moved in. I pushed and struggled against others to get in the train.
'Move,', 'Get out of my way,' was shouted out across the entire platform. I managed to get onto the train but boy was it a squeeze. It was so tightly condensed. I tried to look around but I couldn't seem to see Sarah anywhere. Hopefully she was on the train. She had to be.

--- Present ---

I dropped the pen. Wow, writing about my last day on earth was draining.
'Don't worry Sarah. I'll have those files ready on your desk in a hour,' I shouted. Always moaning about those files. Why were they so important. More important then me? I couldn't focus right now. I looked across the desk and turned on the small, portable TV. It flickered a bit before it formed a picture. Never anything good on. I flicked through a few channels before something caught my eye.
'A missing person report has been filled. The police have confirmed that they are searching for a twenty seven year old women, believed to last been seen leaving her office at approximately five forty pm,' a newscaster said. I started laughing and turned my head at Sarah.
'Hey, Sarah. They're looking for you,' I turned towards the screen again. 'Why do they need to look for you? Your safe here aren't you?'. I quickly got up from my chair and ran towards her. I crouched beside her and stroked her cheek gently. I leaned forward.
'Please tell me your safe here,' I whispered. 'I can't stand it when your not safe,' I said, raising my voice slightly.
'You didn't tell anyone your here, did you?' I shouted. I grabbed her chin and brought her face towards mine. I stared at her soulless eyes. So much emptiness.
'Your safe here Sarah,' I whispered. I kissed her gently on the forehead and wrapped my arms around her tenderly. 'I'll make sure of it,'.

--- Fourteen Hours Earlier ---

Work. Nine o'clock on a Monday morning and I was surround by the dull cubicle walls. It was so...so frustrating. I felt...I don't know how I felt. Every so often, someone would walk past and cheerfully say,
'Hey Michael,' or 'Good morning Michael,'. I just ignored them. They weren't saying it. Society was. You know, they're expected to be nice to fellow colleagues. I had files all over my desk. I lost the will to work. I couldn't understand the concept of it. I just couldn't put the effort in it anymore. My white shirt wasn't fully buttoned, my dark brown hair was scruffy, my right shoe lace wasn't tied. It seemed that everyone working on this floor was staring directly through these cubical walls and staring straight at me. Leave me alone. I'm normal. I'm not crazy.

Fifteen minutes past nine. Still no sign of Sarah. Usually she would've said hi to me by now. Where could she be? I got up from my cubicle and went outside into the corridor. Around me was just a maze of cubicles filled with workers. Phones were ringing, people were shouting from cubicle to cubicle. And still no sign of Sarah. I started stressing out. I paced myself down the corridor towards the elevator. I leaned to my left and continuously started pressing the down button. I needed to know where she was you see. Hurry up. The elevator arrived at my floor and opened. A sea of people came out and after they passed I saw her. She was leaning against the back of the elevator casually texting someone. I couldn't help but admire her. She's so beautiful. Her face looked like it was carved by angels. She cared for her skin as well. Not a wrinkle in sight. All moisturized. It looked so soft. I wish I could...
'Michael?' she said, snapping me out of my trance.
'Oh..erm hey Sarah,' I smiled, weakly. She got out of the lift and stood beside me.
'Oh, hows those reports coming along?' she asked.
'I'm just sorting through the numbers Sarah,' I replied, staring into her eyes, she started acting insecure.
'Well, erm, I need them today,' she smiled at me, but I could see right through it. She started backing away and then turned fully, walking into the other direction. I observed her. Her every movement. She was stopped by another colleague. Derrick. Derrick Walters. He was new here. Tall, around 6'1, 6'2. He had big blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, you know the type. She liked him. I hated him. That means she cannot like him. She has to hate him. They started laughing together, playfully touching. I clenched my fist. I couldn't control myself. Breathe. Breathe. I relaxed my hand and walked back to my cubicle. She'll hate him soon. I know she will. She has too, right?

To Be Continued...
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