The Suicide

A troubled detective with no family and feeling alone in the world stumbles upon a suicide that changes how he feels about his own life.

A cup of coffee and I was off at 2:30 in the morning. Driving half asleep with 

cheap coffee and 2 cigarettes left in my pack. I came to a blinking yellow light that put 

me in a trance. I noticed this sense of silence and it was beautiful. A trance like being 

asleep while awake. My eyes were still half closed, same as was my mind. My breath 

was still dry and on the back of my tongue was the horrendous after taste of burnt 

coffee. I was in too much of a hurry to grab my tie or my jacket so I ran out in nothing 

but my wrinkled dress shirt and brief case. I looked like a grub that just got a divorce 

and moved into a s**t hotel. I woke from this blur to a man behind me furiously beeping 

to make me get the hell out of the way. I realized what was going on and immediately 

slammed on the gas, sending my coffee all over my white dress shirt. 

Nothing ever big happened in my town- a few suicides, some drugs, but nothing 

big. Soon enough I arrived at the abandoned mill where detective Jones and detective 

Lapointe were waiting to give me the story. Jones was a drunk jewish man that hung by 

a thread with  this job and Lapointe remained a successful detective, but his marriage 

was going down the drain. “A girl, 17 years old, shot in the head with a .45 ACP, ruled to 

be a suicide.” said detective Lapointe. “There is a crumpled up suicide note in her hand, 

didn’t look like anything too important.” said Jones. “I want to see that note!” I reply.

As I walked into the mill, I saw the girl laying on the cold cement. The gun was 

still in her left hand and the note in the other. She was beautiful. It pained me to see the 

sight of such a horrible act of selfishness. I didn’t sign up for this kind of stuff. Jones 

used the tongs to grab the crumpled note in her right hand. The note read “The city is 

burning down as we speak, but all the people are smiling, waiting for the new light to 

shine down on them... Goodbye.”

When I finished reading it, I started to tear up. I couldn’t help myself. I walked 

outside and pulled out my cigarettes. My hands were shaking and I couldn’t get my 

lighter to work. Lapointe came over and lit my cigarette. “Why don’t you go home for 

tonight Robert. You look like a mess and probably could use some more sleep. We’ve 

got it from here” he said. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow Charles” I managed, still shaking 

and taking big huffs off my cigarette. I drove back home, laid down, and fell asleep 

almost instantly. 

That night, I had a dream. I dreamt that I was swimming in the middle of a lake. 

The water was freezing cold and my lips were quivering. I looked to shore and standing 

there was the girl, our eyes locked. I started swimming toward her as fast as I could. I 

must have been directly in the middle because it seemed extremely far from shore. She 

raised something up in the air and then put it toward her head. I realized what was 

happening and started to scream and swim vigorously to her. “No! Don’t do it! No!” I 

yelled. Then, a shot shattered the silent air and echoed like no other shot in the world. I 

stopped swimming, still looking down, becoming aware of the situation. Once I came 

to my senses I looked up and saw her laying in the sand. It was too late... The next day 

was a blur. I wasn’t thinking straight. My mind was occupied with  other things. After 

work, Me and the guys went to the Wharf in Hallowell. The Wharf was this local bar that 

smelled like sweat and was filled with scummy people. These scummy people are what 

we like to call “Wharf Rats”. I need to get my mind off this whole thing so I said why not 

have a drink. It was me, Charles Lapointe, and Doug Jones, and we sure as hell looked 

like an unusual trio. I’d had had a cigarette in my mouth since this 

morning, Doug was already drunk and had been since we got out of work, and Charles 

and I looked like a couple of stuck-up cops. While Doug sat in the booth half asleep, 

Charles and I decided to play a game of pool.

When Charles was setting up the game, I decided to use the restroom. Standing 

there, the light flickering, and a unlit Marlboro hanging out the side of my mouth. The 

image of the girl standing on shore kept flashing through my mind. But this time, the 

house behind her was burning to a crisp. There were about five or six people standing 

in a line outside the house facing the lake. They were all smiling... just like in her note. 

The door slammed closed from a man walking in and I jolted back to reality and walked 

out. I noticed a Wharf Rat and his two minions right behind him giving Charles s**t 

about using the pool table. This rat was a dirty biker who was about 6’4, and 250 lbs, 

and had a beard that could kick your a*s. Charles was about the same height but not 

nearly as big as this rat. Charles was lengthy yet still had enough muscle on him to put 

up a fight. The biker was getting a little physical with Charles. Shoving his left shoulder 

until Charles face turned red.

The walk over to this pathetic argument was almost like it was in slow motion. 

There was not a thought nor an image in my mind for miles. Without thinking, I walked 

up to the argument and grabbed the bikers right shoulder and started whaling on him. 

Pulling his right shoulder in, giving me more advantage on my left hook for more 

damage. I felt like Terry O'Reilly of the Boston Bruins in Nov 12, 1981 against Dave 

Semenko. I delivered a few fast left hooks and then let go of his right shoulder and 

started to unleash with fury. Left, left, left, dodge to the right, bobbed in to the middle, 

left hook, and then right upper cut and the rat was down. I kneeled down and grabbed 

his shirt and pulled him close. “I don’t want to see you or your two pathetic minions here 

any more! Got it?!” I whispered with a malevolent look on my face. “Yes sir” was all the 

biker muttered. He laid his head back down to the floor and was out cold. I stood up and 

looked around- silence. Every single person in the bar and from across the street were 

staring at me. Charles face was pale white, and he was standing there completely still 

almost like he had seen a ghost. 

I stormed out of the bar feeling more tough than I’ve ever felt in my life. Ever 

since the suicide there was something changed in me. I understood that those kinds of 

things happen from time to time, but a voice in my head kept telling me to stop caring so 

much about the things that run my life. I felt like I was in high school again, and I didn’t 

know if that was good or bad, but I loved it. Charles threw Doug over his shoulder and 

tossed him into the back seat of my Ford Torino. We got in the car and drove to Doug’s 

to drop him off. “I could have handled it. I mean sure the guy could have used a beating 

but it wasn’t necessary. That guy is there every single night, but you probably made it so 

he’s never going to show his face anywhere near Hallowell again” Charles said quietly. 

It was silent after that. I dropped Charlie off and went home. 

It was about 2:30 in the morning and I couldn’t sleep. My eyes felt as though they 

were glued open and my heart beat fast like somebody gave me a shot of adrenaline. 

All I was thinking about was the rush of power that I felt when it happened. I felt a 

satisfactory urge to live my life with not a care in the world. I put out my cigarette, 

grabbed my coat and gun, and walked out the door. I drove as fast as my car would go. 

Ripping through the streets like I was in a race for my life. I drove by a jewelry store 

where I saw men in masks hop out of a van, break the store window and hop in. I 

peeled around the corner to the back of the store and called Charles on a pay phone 

that was only twenty feet away. I told him to get over here immediately. Now in this 

situation, what you’re supposed to do is surround the area and hope they come out with 

their hands up, but I was feeling alive. 

Charles was taking a while so I went to the rear entrance of the store and crept 

in. I heard men laughing and breaking case after case getting as much as their dark 

hearts desired. I crept up behind a wall with a man was on the other side. I got low and 

stuck my head around the corner and looked up, there he was. Wearing a beat up old 

ski mask and a boiler suit. With a great big smile on my face I said “Hey your shoe is 

untied!”. The startled man stared me right in the eyes. He screamed “What the hell!” and 

I shot him in the leg. He fell to the floor and flung his gun right beside me. 

I quickly knocked him out with the the barrel of my gun and looked up to a man 

with a gun to my head. I dropped my gun and slid it away as far as possible and got to 

my knees. “DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT DOING ANYTHING STUPID” he screamed 

with a scared shiver in his voice. He clicked the lever back slowly and was breathing 

heavily. I felt the barrel of the gun shaking on my head. Then, a shot went off and I 

nearly fainted. Looking around and feeling my head and looking all over my body to see 

if I’m shot dead, and I was fine. I saw that the robber holding the gun to my head had 

fallen to the ground beside me.

I looked at the door of the store and there was Charles standing with a gun in his 

hand. He shot the robber, and saved my life. I stood up, still shaken and thanked him. “I 

was just doing my job” he said. He put his gun back in his holster and started laughing. 

“Well that was too close” he said. A loud bang rang out from outside and echoed 

in the jewelry store. I looked out to see what it was and Charles dropped to his knees. 

There was a man 10 feet behind him holding a gun. He must have been another robber 

that was the getaway driver in their van. “Noooooooooo!!! I screamed! I immediately ran 

full speed towards him shooting at him until he fell to the ground after 2 shots.

I walked over to Charles and knelt down. He was dead. He was shot in the back 

of the neck and bled out in a matter of seconds. I slowly looked up and let out a 

thunderous scream. Charles was a good man, one of my best friends, and a 

stupid robber had to take his life away. I now knew what had to be done. I walked over 

to the robber that shot Charles and went through his pockets looking for any 

information. I found a note that had a phone number written on it. I walked to the back of 

the store where the pay phone was. I slipped in my 5 cents and dialed the number and 

waited. “Is this Tommy?” A man said. “Yes” I said. “So it went well I see, I’m glad to hear 

this” the man said sounding satisfied. “Yes it went very well” I said with a malevolent 

tone. “Bring the stash to the old mill behind the graveyard” he said. “Ok see you there”.

A cup of coffee and I was off at 2:30 in the morning. Driving recklessly through the night, 

weaving around the small amount of cars on the road. I started laughing, laughing 

about everything that has happened, then I remembered a quote from 

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest that fit this situation so well. “He knows that you 

have to laugh at the things that hurt you just to keep yourself in balance, just to keep 

the world from running you plumb crazy.” I’m a changed man now, and even though all 

this stuff has happened, I’m going to live on, but with vengeance. Vengeance to scum and 

all the people bringing wrong to this world. Burn there city down and smile. “The city is 

burning down as we speak, but all the people are smiling, waiting for the new light to shine 

down on them... 

Goodbye.”