In The Absence Of The Sun

Based around my suicide attempt

The night hadn’t gone by, the stars were still small pieces of pulp coughed up from a stony moon. I was on the run from sleep, fueled with a eye opening mania, like the mana flowing through the veins of the trees outside the window I was staring out of. There was hardly noise in my room but one my thoughts racing like the shooting of light over a bed of black trees, winter had steadily stripped like a pedophile. My eyes reflected onto the end of my heated pillow. Those hands felt like soaked blocks of concrete as they got caught in my fat streaks of greasy hair from not bathing for days. I stopped being awake for days in my mind as a road of psychosis lead me up like a parent and a fallen child. Like an old black and white zombie, I awkwardly stepped through my doorway into the kitchen. The kitchen was the only room in the house always illuminated by either an angel's vomit or overhead light. I felt like a parasite for the first time in my mother’s home. As I laid in a chair I always had sat in, there on the table was her lottery ticket money. There was enough for me to get away from the suburban peace that I never looked at, thanked or loved. Thoughts tumbled through my head faster and faster into the end brutality of depression, make me shine an uneasy smile like a penny you’ve stepped on. The lone horn of a gust sounds, chords of the wind brace against the window for the affection of interest.

---------The phone rang, being so lonely waited for a few rings. Picking up the phone I heard a soft word, my heart then burst with mind as she talked to me. She laid pictures of New York City in front of me like food to the vagabonds. I drank from the romance in hear voice of how she discarded her ‘towny’ clothes from our small suburbia. We laughed though it was a brief conversation until she hit me with a taunt of ridiculousness. She said come on down, that I would love since we were half pals and could have dated once. I let all of that slide from my mind and I answered with a sure, sometime but we both know it would never happen.

I thought about these memories, juggling them like a retarded circus clown. Sitting in a spew of embarrassment for flunking out of college with no cliched bottles to chug from. That thought of just taking the money and running faster than I could from my problems, everything started to pound my chest. Flipping through the telephone book I found the taxi service number. I stare longingly and lonely at a quarter laying next phone, like it had nothing to fear from the size of the other objects on the table. Tossing it up I called it right and thought what happened could be somewhat justified like a premature shot in bed. My fear gives me a hand up from the chair, dressing I pack light for obvious reasons. Picking up the phone again like a drug addict going back without much hesitating. The service said they would be there in a few moments which were some of the heaviest minutes my brain could have brought up. Each moment was like a gun shut from my fear of my mother waking up beforehand.

Turning the backdoor key as the Beatles put it, I walked calmly to a yellow taxi. The driver’s anthem was where are you headed to, I answered softly and simply as I could. I ended up as a sign post he glared at from time to time trying to make small talk. We arrived at the station, I slid him a twenty dollar bill and said keep the change, any other time I would have counted the pennies. On the platform I stared down at the cold metal tracks, thoughts of what I planned to do beat my intelligence and sense of reason bare knuckle. I could not do it quite yet because I wouldn’t get to live it up for a long as money’s life. The commuter rail passes me like a cold bullet. Inside I felt the rush of the poor heating on the train, there was no place to sit but I pretended I was still looking out the dirty glass window. After so many stops, I get out at the South Station, a child escaped from the womb. My blood stared to go loose as it finally hit me that I was going through with it. People were spread around every which way, voices drown and lift in a matter of a second. Conversations from people on their phones or next to someone were loud, but I felt as if I was only still living.

Going down flights of stairs I saw the Chinatown buses being packed in than a man backed up with s**t. She had suggested it to me of the easiest and cheapest ways to get to the city. With little sleep still breathing in me I slip in and out of consciousness for a few moments at a time. When I awoke, I felt like it was one of the times I couldn’t remember even after hearing the bus wheels. My phone was riddled with messages and texts from even my old ex girlfriend and my mom of course. They pleas sail through my skull, like an empty breeze that no one cares if they lose. My paranoia grew as I let a call to the city girl’s phone, there was no answer at first but eventually she got on as I was passing through the highway clothing Connecticut. There is a lot of fake joy in her voice, the kind of awkwardness that punches at your dignity and optimisms. Finally after going on and off like a toilet seat she tells me to meet her in Times Square. With the painful stings of seven messages left on my phone, I was not tough enough to even pretend they were there. We stopped twice before getting to the place of drop off. A electric shock of fears eat at my spine, making my legs numb and mind dumber than it’s ever been in.

This strange world I was in never stopped sound off, it was nothing like Boston. The skyscrapers actually cut most of the sky. Everything was just so vibrant from empty cell of a room back home. I was following through and got out of the cab, tipping him disgusting well. About to vomit from all the stress, she waves me down. We stare into each of our eyes like jewelers do with flawless diamonds. Getting drunk on a half hug we both knew she had heard the news. Out of a neon blue, a cop stands in back of me and tells me to not move. I had been tracked and she was all part of it, I felt so pathetic more than any point of my entire life. Each second was like pulling nails off with a vice grip. Handcuffing me they slowly brought me over to ambulance, she followed like if we were something in my dreams. Kissing me on the lips in the most forced kiss that says “I don’t love you but I have to for this” Uncovered I was loaded into ambulance bound for the hospital. Before they put me in, I couldn’t see the sun or it’s shine in the sky.

Selfish Epilogue.

On the other end of the phone in the psyche ward in the second day, I beg my mother and everyone who cares not to come. She tells me that the mother of the girl won’t ever let me see her again because of the motions in my heart. It was there that I took the cliche knife and broke it into my brain. Crying hysterically I slam the phone on her, though it was wrong for me to take it out on her in hindsight. It was there in that phone booth on the psychiatric unit that I wanted to be a fly. I wish I could have been on that girl's shoulder, carried and cradled in magic or have wind push me. I’m sure I would have be happy and dead on the same day.