Moribund

A tale of sorrow and defeat with a philosophy of rhythm

Tick.Tick.Tick.Tick.Tick.Beeeeeeeeeep.

Beeeeeeeep.

Beeeeeeeeeeeep.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

My eardrums were ringing. The sunlight streamed into my room. I became aware of the moaning alarm clock. F**k. I stammered out of my bed and picked it up. I hurled it against the wall and flinched as the glass in front of the numbers shattered.

Beeeeeep. Beeeep. Beeeeeppppp.

It continued to moan. I yanked the electrical cord out of its socket. Great, another f*****g day. A terrible day. A day my life would see change. Let’s see what the courts have in store for me.

I brushed my teeth to a sparkling glistening glow, under my father’s direction, that should get me another year of two off. For sure. I put on my nicest shirt followed by my suede blue jacket and slick polished leather shoes accompanied by a formal but unobtrusive tie. I looked “dapper”.

Why had I even made it to this point? Why was I still alive? I had wished to kill myself for a decade now and had forgone a trillion optimal opportunities. Why did I still pursue my suffering when I had an out? It was an anomaly. No. No, it wasn’t. The simple and easy answer for forging so many countless prime opportunities to end it was encapsulated in one word. A word which carried a tremendous amount of weight. Fear.

Fear that the recoil of the gun I had stuck in my mouth or against my temple would avert the shot and only minorly damage brain tissue rendering me speechless and unable to materialize thoughts for life. But alive. Fear that the cops whose gun I pull out of his hip holster wrestles me to the ground or knocks it out of my hand before I can get the safety off and then I’m charged with assault on a police officer and after I served my decade in prison giving head and getting hit in the head so hard I go blind, I’m totally sequestered from society with my options completely cut off as a violent offender. Fear that the driver of the car I jump in front of only injures me but becomes injured herself and sues me for everything I’m worth. Fear that the animal tranquilizers I steal from the veterinary clinic mentally retard me after putting me through extreme physical anguish for weeks.

Fear, however was soon being overtaken by necessity. Necessity to rid myself of this miserable dismal existence that I have endured for far too long, without any respite or relief in sight. Maybe I just needed to open my eyes for it was it sight. No. Impossible.

The car ride up with silent. Not even the radio buzzed to drone out the silence. The fall foliage was ever present along the road as the trees shed their leaves in a splendid maze of colorful technifold. Nature. That is one thing I’m going to miss about life. Nature and perhaps warm weather. Two things I’m going to miss about life, but certainly not reasons for staying for pain greatly outweighs the positive aspects of life. Worthwhile. That’s a matter of perspective. You can enjoy the highs without the lows. My whole life had been one long unrelenting persistent scary low. I’m weary. I’m tired and I need rest. I can’t find it on this earth so I’ve been forced to look elsewhere. If hell awaits me and I suffer for eternity. So be it. I took my chances and I spun the barrell of the gun on russian roulette. But at least I had the guts to finally follow through with a decision that plagued my mind every moment of every day for most of my life.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

We get there. The lawyer is waiting at the courthouse. He’s dressed in all black with a red tie, like the hitman. We park and approach him. “How was jail” It sucked. “Well that’s what happens when you break the law.” Thanks.

Here sign this. And this. You have the right to waive the right to representation…..

Now the judge is probably going to give you probation as we discussed. I’ve charged your parents alot. I’ve really made alot off this case and now I’m going to use it to get other clients with expensive cases and make even more money by mentioning you, you know since you were all over the news and everything, with your reputation ruined and all. Oh yeah and one more thing you must apologize to the judge to expending his resources and thank him for graciously extending to you his time of day to hear this case. Okay. They’re ready to take us.

The hallway clock was booming, it had struck noon.

Twelve years probation. Twelve years? I’ll be well into my thirties,if and thats a unlikely if, everything goes well. There are several hundred rules. More rules than I can possibly fathom. One small infraction and I violate the whole thing go to jail for a decade than come out on parole and probation for an even longer amount of time. Who wants to live under these circumstances. I lived under fear and intimidation my entire life now I have a guarantee of a indefinite continuation of it.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn't matter if I’m in another psych ward, one of the numerous ones I spent much of my teen years penned up in and abused only to become sicker, in jail or on the beach or in a glorious yacht. It doesn't matter if I’m the president, have an immense amount of influence, power, prestige, own several gorgeous mansions, have all the material possessions in the world, I would still feel utterly miserable, hopeless and in despair. I began to formulate a plan. Not one I would renege on. Not one I would “chicken out” on and permit fear to dissuade me. One I would finally execute and follow through on this last time and finally complete something that had been on my mind every waking moment for years.

Tick. Tock.

I was not afraid of death. It was fear of failure in my attempt that prevented me from attempting. I did not want to end up brain dead and crippled. I only wished to pass on to whatever was next and meet it with certainty that it was better than what was. Whether or not it would be, was irrelevant. All the bridges in my town were too low. Water is dense but not dense enough if you’re not high up enough. Jumping off one I would simply wind up wet and cold, with a broken ankle after swimming to the shore downstream, walking home drenched and ashamed and explaining to my parents why I was soaked and limping. Yes. That wouldn’t do. That wasn’t going to work. Decapitation. Yes. That was the best method. Like the guilintete. Efficient and systematic, nearly took out half of France once upon a time. That’s what I need to do and it couldn't be dull like an axe it had to be through. Resting my head on a train. But the major impediment to that was fighting off survival instinct. The train’s headlight. The horn blaring. How was I going to my body on the tracks and my head on the rail and not stand up and walk away?

I couldn’t tie myself down but I could make myself pass out on the tracks. Yes but then I could move out of a lethal position. I got it. I would stop being a p***y. I would muster up the courage to do this and actually do it this time. Maybe I could drive into oncoming traffic but I could certainly keep my head down for a critical moment.

Tock.

I took out my busted up and rusted red bike. With most of the paint chipped off and just a little red blood left it reminded me of my life. End of the line. There was no coming back and I was happier than ever. Apprehensive but excited. Excited to finally be rid of this fate of agony that has besieged by internal state and permeated and pervaded every moment of my life and hindered me from any piece of peace that others enjoyed. Good f*****g riddance. I had borne the emotional turmoil of several hundred people’s lives and in death I would be free from this and  no longer be ridden with pain. The breeze touched by hair as I rode my bike down the road through the crisp autumn air. Nature kissing me goodbye. I will miss you but it’s just too much to stay. Goodbye. I got the the hill where the tracks were and tossed my bike under a tree, running up to the tracks and laying gently on the cold hard steel on the ground. I felt at home. I closed my eyes and waited. The soft breeze stroked my hair again and beckoned me back. No I would not budge. I was committed and not even the weight of a train could move me from my decision now. Then I heard it. A faint echo in the distance. A whistle. My fate awaited me.