My Best Friend Just Committed Suicide

Some people aren't who they appear.

My best friend just committed suicide.

He was one of the happiest people you could’ve met. Always smiling, making jokes, laughing, and just being a genuinely nice guy. He always made everyone feel welcome and no one was ever left out. Everyone said his smile could light up a room. It was funny, really. His light shone so brightly that he could hide his own darkness behind it.

That’s what his note said, anyways.

       I could barely read the note myself. Through the tears it was difficult to read clearly. He wrote that he couldn’t take it anymore. He felt as if his own actions were judged by every single person every single day. The jokes and laughter was all part of the façade, he’d said. Stressing over how he felt wasn’t what he wanted from his friends. So he shut out everything negative when he was around them. The Joker, they’d call him. He had hated it. No one had really ever taken him seriously after they’d coined the name. There wasn’t any going back after that. So he did what he knew was best; making everyone "except himself"happy.

          I tried getting help, but the bills were too much. I just had to shut up and live in my own little hell filled with spirits and demons. By that point the page was splattered in smeared ink and tears. He felt miserable; what was the point of living if he couldn’t keep a steady job and find love? Wasn’t it just easier to just swallow some pills than play the game of life? The bottle beside his dead body said yes. The screaming and crying of his mother said no.

          His funeral was the hardest for his brother. Six years old. Barely old enough to understand, but still able to. He tearfully went up to the casket. Why isn’t he going to come home? Why doesn’t he just wake up?       

The casket gave him no response.

          Hearing everyone’s words warmed my heart. But it also made me livid. Why wouldn’t they say these things before? That he was so kind, and nice, and that people loved him? Why didn’t anyone just say that they would help him if they asked before? Those were the worst because they probably never say those words again. They were reserved for certain people. Those certain people just so happened to be dead.

          When she came up to say her words, her whole voice was cracked and shaky. Everyone knew they loved each other. But for whatever reason, they didn’t act upon it. She blamed herself for the whole thing; she could’ve made him happy if she had said something. If she’d said something before, maybe she could have saved him. Maybe. I hated words like that. You either could, or you could not. There wasn’t anything between. Even though she had tissues and time, she couldn’t finish her speech. Her heels echoed down the tile floor until she sat down. It hurt to see her like that, but at the same time, I couldn’t help feel the same flash of anger at her words like before. Why didn’t she say anything? Why? Why would you keep all these words and thoughts to yourself?

          I suppose I wasn’t just the Joker. I guess I was the hypocrite as well.

Author's Note

Just tell me what I can fix to make the story much more interesting!

Reviews

[Haunted Doll]

This piece made me cry so much....partly because of the beautiful flow of these depressing words....and partly because this is how I felt myself at one point. I felt hopeless, trapped, entangled in problems and sickened that I could not do anything to save myself. This story hit home so hard and although I've tried to forget about it, in a strange way I appreciate the rush of emotions that this brought back to mind...it helps me learn, grow and be grateful. I hope this story was not true however (-____-)
Excellent flow of words dear, please keep writing!

[Mattie]

Ah, don't worry, it's not true! Well, the death part anyways. I'm still kicking in this world! Some of it is based off of my own emotions, so it is sort of based off of my own experiences. Thank you for your review!

[Haunted Doll]

Oh thank goodness!!!!!! And I'm very happy that you're alive, kicking and being a badass writer :D Your flow of words is seriously impressive and I can't wait to read more! Please keep up the excellent work and just transfer all those dark emotions into your work and literally leave them there....once they're all written down forget them and feel better (^__^) that works for me!

[Mehameha]

I liked the premise of this piece. I think a lot of my friends have felt this way after a rough patch and isolate themselves when the world changes too fast. I lost one too. My story, The Sirens. As far as your wanting advice, I would only try to distinguish the writer from the "note" that was read. It would make it more concise for my little pea brain, haha. Good stuff. Enjoyed it.