Requiem

A short story about Romantic depression and teenage suicide

“Amanda,” I said to her

“Hey!”

“I love you”

“Ryan, I thought we talked-“

“No, Amanda, I love you. I want you to know that before I go.”

“Go where? Ryan, where are you?”

Her voice became panicked. I felt so bad for her.

               “I don’t want you to worry, I have to fix myself. Please, don’t hate me.”

“No, Ryan you’re such an amazing and beautiful person. I would never hate you. I know what you’re about to do Ryan please don’t!”

Salty tears broke from my eyes and fell onto my lips. I could hear her crying too.

“It’s okay Amanda, its okay. You’ll forget about this all in a few months and your life will be great again. I won’t be in pain anymore.

I lowered the phone to wipe the tears off my face.

“I don’t want you to feel that you’re the guilty one. This is my fault; my wrongdoing. I’m not strong like I said I was. I can’t help myself like I said I could. I can’t live like this anymore.

She was sobbing the whole time.

“Ryan, please you don’t have to do this. We can work this out and you can live a happy life I promise you. It’s okay to feel the way you feel, let’s just talk about this.”

“No Amanda, it’s not. You shouldn’t carry this burden. It’s not you, it’s me. I’ll do a favor for both of us. Goodbye, I love you so much and I wish life treat you better than it did to me.”

“No! Please Ryan I-“

I hung up my phone as I walked under the busy bridge. Rain beat down like bullets. I dropped to the ground crying. The phone rang again; it was Amanda. I took the phone and threw it in the river. The dirt under the bridge was rough and wet. Broken bottles and cigarette butts littered the place. At both ends of the tunnel, rain pounded the soaking ground and poured over the edges of the bridge. Bare, lifeless trees held up a dark, cloudy sky over the open field. I leaned against the musty wall and slowly fell down. I turned my head to my right to see the flooded river I tossed my phone in. I used to play in that river as a child. Graffiti covered the walls and garbage scattered all over the place. This tunnel didn’t look the same as it did when I was young.

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a handgun. The silver Colt 1911 glistened from the little light that pried its way through the storm. The intricate design on the barrel was so detailed and beautiful. A tiger sneaking on its prey was carved into the weapon. The woodwork of the handle was so well furnished as well. A truly gorgeous handgun.

I ejected the magazine, letting it fall into my hand. I pulled out a single bullet and placed it in the empty mag. I pushed it back into the gun with a metallic click. I cocked the gun, raising it gently to my temple with my finger resting just above the trigger. The muzzle relaxed on my skin. I took a deep breath and another. Closing my eyes I moved my finger on the trigger. A hole in my gut dropped and a sickening feeling followed afterwards. I bit my lip in fear and felt my hand start to tremble.  I took another deep breath and closed my eyes trying to calm myself. Silence.

I lowered the gun and exhaled. My lungs felt tight and I started gasping for air.

“I don’t want this.” I said to myself between grinded teeth.

“Nobody wants this.”

               I ran my fingers through my hair and grabbed it in the back. The rain still beat the earth hard and rotten trees still supported the gloomy sky. Pacing back and forth, thoughts of Amanda filled my head.

“How could you do this to her you selfish fool? How could you put her in pain like this for your own desires?”

These were not desires though, I needed this to stop; I needed peace. I pulled myself up and grabbed the pistol. I sat opposite of where I was before and raised the gun. I inhaled through the nose and exhaled through the mouth. A hard swallow and readjustment of the pistol; I was ready to take my life. I was ready to end my pain.

Just as I placed a finger on the trigger, I heard crunching footsteps on gravel at the end of the tunnel. An elderly homeless man entered. His hair and oat were drenched from the downpour and his beard was far from maintained. His face however looked as if it were just cleaned.

“Hey” he said walking towards me. I didn’t move.

He noticed the artistic pistol in my hand and calmly raised his just to his waist.

“Look now, I won’t harm you.”

“I’m not going to kill you.” I replied.

“But you would kill yourself?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Let me guess, a girl?” I nodded.

He slowly walked into the tunnel lowering his hands but remained on the opposite side.

“And you like her, of course. But she does not like you.”

“Like is a weak word.”

“Ah yes, how can anyone just like someone as beautiful as her?”

“Who are you, how do you know what she looks like?”

“Well boys don’t get upset over any girls” I didn’t reply.

“I’m Rick”

“Rick who?”

“I think we have more important things to worry about here than my name.”

“Look you don’t have to be here. I can’t be fixed.”

“But you don’t seem broken to me.” He said with a grin.

“You have known me for less than a minute and all you do know is that I’m some teenager under a bridge with a gun to my head. You’re telling me I don’t seem broken?”

“No, you’re just a little heartsick, that’s all. I’ve seen many other people take their lives for more than just that.”

“Have you stopped any of them?” I asked him.

“I hope today can be my first.”

I stared at him blankly as he threw down his bag and sat against the wall facing me.

               “You’ve watched people kill themselves?”

“Unfortunately yes, people have drowned themselves, slit their throats with knives and scissors, used nooses and even take a bullet to the head.” He said gesturing to me.

“How do you know me?”

“As far s you know I’m just some old bum who stumbled across a suicidal kid under a bridge. I could be real or just some part of your disturbed imagination. Either way, I’m here to help.”

I looked at him for a moment wondering whether or not he was truly real or not.

“You can’t save me. I’m too far out at sea now. You’ll only waste your time and energy trying to rescue me.”

He reached into his makeshift satchel and took out a canteen. He leaned it towards me, offering it but I waved my hand in denial.

“I can help you, we can talk this out and enjoy being alive or, you could take that gun and give up everything. Your call.”

I held the gun in my hand, turning it both ways to see both sides. I thought of Amanda, my family, my parents, my friends. I set the 1911 a good distance away from me.

               “Good” the old man said with a full smile. He had all of his teeth, which was odd.

               “Now, you have been suicidal for years, correct?

I nodded.

“But these thoughts and feelings have only crept up on you every now and then. They come up out of nowhere; bother you from school and people for some time and then leave.”

“Yes but this has been going on for a full month not; this is the real thing.”

“What makes you think that? Just because this has been going on for a month doesn’t mean it is the only way out of your pain. Look at me. I’ve been homeless for twenty years. I lost my wife to the same monster you’re fighting. I tried to assist her in any way I could but her stubbornness just didn’t let me get through to her. I’ve been out here living with no parents, no home, no bed, and no food on the table longer than you have been alive.”

“Is that what you tell everyone with a gun to their head?”

“No, something different every time.”

He grinned at me again with brightness and warmness to his face. He took a swig of his canteen.

               “Now, why don’t you tell me what you’re here for?” he said wiping his mouth.

“I’m hurting, hurting so much that it has numbed me quite a bit. I can’t seem to enjoy anything or anyone… except Amanda.”

“I can tell she means the world to you.” he said with a grin. “But why is she the only person you enjoy?”

I had to really think for a moment about his question.

“She’s so optimistic and funny. She practically glows with joy. I think everyone who is around her feels great; I do.”

He pondered for a moment.

               “She never ignored you, never wanted to harm you. What’s the issue?”

               “She has someone else in her life.”

“Hm, jealousy. That green-eyed monster will devour you.” he chuckled and looked outside briefly.”You’re scared she will care for you less now that she has found this other guy. You fear being forgotten by her.”

He seemed to spread out my thoughts so clearly for me when I was blinded by the haze of depression.

               “Do you know how important you are to her? How much she cares about you?”

“Not as much as she cares about that other guy.”

“And why should you care? That’s none of your business. Just because she is with someone else doesn’t mean she cares about you. You are still a very important part of her life. This friendship you both have manufactured is something special; something worth living for.”

I looked at him wanting to smile but I just couldn’t.

“I haven’t even brought your family and friends and how they will react to your permanent absence. There are so many people who value you in their life. Sure, you may end your own suffering but imagine how many other people will have to bear such a loss.”

“I don’t know what to say.” I said through tears.

“You don’t have to. Life didn’t come with an instruction manual. That’s why we have wise old men.”

Rain still poured outside only slightly lighter but the river flooded more and more.

               “How do I help myself then?”

“Be honest with her. Tell her how you feel. Tell your mother, your father, your close friends �" whoever how you feel. You can’t get help if no one knows there is a problem. And you put on quite a talented act of hiding yourself. That,” he said pointing to the gun “will not help you. Life is precious, boy. This life is all you have. There is no afterlife, no heaven, no hell. This is all you have, all you will ever have.”

I calmed down, stopping the flow of teardrops for a moment.

“You can pursue your dreams although some if not most of them will fail. You’re supposed to fail. Don’t allow one screw up to destroy you and all you ever will be. This may be a lifelong journey, but it is a journey worth taking. Overcoming negativity is only the beginning of this path. It’s the hardest step to take but once you do just that, the rest of it is just a victory lap.”

               “What if I can’t get there?” I asked.

               “Then you try again.”

He got up and walked towards me handing me a clean tissue.

               “You said that you’ve never saved anyone from themselves before?”

               “No” he replied “and I hope that changes right now.”

I took a deep breath realizing how great that single breath felt. I wanted to be happy with Amanda, whether hers or not. I wanted to straighten out my life.

               “The first step is always the hardest.” He repeated as he gathered his supplies. He turned to me.

‘You could listen to my little rant and live your life the way it was supposed to be lived or you could end all of your pain, all of your suffering. The choice is yours.”

I stared at him for a moment and noticed a bit of sadness in his expression. I looked at the gun a foot away, in the same position I had left it. I looked up and the man was gone; vanished as if he were never there. No footprints left in the mud, no sign that he was ever here.

My eyes welled up. I reached for the pistol and slowly put it to my temple once again. The cold muzzle steady against my head.

I swallowed and closed my eyes.

Silence.

No need. No want. No worry.