Suicide Note

Posted: October 12, 2010 in Death, Drama, Horror
Tags: , ,

As I sit here contemplating life, I often ask myself, what’s the point? Day
in and day out it’s the same mundane thing. I get up, I go to work, I
come home, pay some bills, feed that damn one eyed cat, then I go to bed;
just to do the same thing the next day, and the next day and the next month,
and the next year, until I decide that it’s too much or until death creeps in
and puts I out of My miserable existence. I decide call all
of my friends, wait, I don’t have any friends, so I turn to my cat, and
poor my heart out to him. Not even he appears to care, so what do I do?

I don’t have much money, but instead of the chicken and rice or taco’s that
I have been eating for months, I decide to splurge My life savings and go out
to a fancy restaurant and have a really nice dinner. But in reality I realize
that I can only afford maybe a $20 mill at Outback, because I just paid all of
my bills the day before and $20 is all I have left for food and bus fair for
the next 2 weeks. I go to the restaurant and sit and order the 2 for $20
special that they are having, luckily I found enough on the ground walking to
the restaurant to pay for the taxes. The meal didn’t come with a drink, but the
waitress could see I were having a rough day and did not charge me for the
drinks. There I sit stuffed like a Christmas turkey, barely able to breathe
because my stomach is now pressing against my lungs. A few hours pass and my idis
wears off. I make the long trek back to my sullen apartment with the one eyed
cat. The night is still, more still than it had ever been in my life of
existence. I feel as if my life has been a complete waist, a void of
nothingness, a palette with no paint to mix, not even the homeless man whom I
trip over acknowledges I. Finally home I slothingly make my way through the
urine filled hallway of this place I call home. A roach runs under a tear in
the carpet. I struggle with the lock as I always do to get into my home, the
key breaks as I get the lock opened. I sigh, and drop the remainder of the key
on the grimy floor. Upon entering I flip the light switch but nothing happens.
I flick a few more times as we normally do out of disbelief, to make sure I did
it correctly the first time. I make my way to my desk which has a nice stream
of moonlight beaming on it. This is perfect I thought.

I pull out a piece of crisp paper from my printer. Although I lived in a
ragtag apartment, I had a decent computer and printer for my work. I find a
pen, my favorite Monte Blanc that I said would make me famous. It’s the single
most expensive item that I own. I pull off the top, the clear snapping sound it
made reminded me of the first time I had ever sat down to write anything with
it. I felt a since of power that day, much unlike this day whereas all I feel
is hopelessness. I shake the pen a few times to make sure the ink is flowing
swiftly to the end. I press the pen to the paper, hesitate for a moment and
look up at the moon. It’s quite beautiful tonight, I must say. Never had I ever
noticed the splendor of it until now. I guess you never realize how beautiful
something really is until you realize that you will never see it again. I begin
to write:

My life has been one of despair and loneliness, the pain of it all has been
too much to bear. As I sit here contemplating Life, I often asked myself,
what’s the point? Why have I been placed in such a GOD awful life, why am I
here. I’ve had enough. I wish that I had someone in my life that actually cared
about me enough to read this suicide letter to know how I felt. But since I
have no family and no one to care about the trite life I have been living,
tonight I shall end it all. I will however finally get my 15 minutes of fame,
or however long it takes the coroner to scrape my body off of the sidewalk.
Just so there is not misunderstandings, I’m going to write down how I’m going
to kill myself. I have a center block that I acquired a few days ago from a
construction site. I plan on using that as extra weight to hurl me out of my
window. This will give me the extra momentum that I need to ensure that I hit
the ground with enough force to kill myself, and not lie there in pain for
hours before I die. All of my writings before now have been an utter failure,
but this, my suicide note shall be my last and greatest masterpiece…..

Signed a lonely writer

I pick up the cinder block and move to the opposite side of the room. I take
several deep breaths and try not to think about what I’m about to do. I look up
at the window and get a clear idea of just how to jump through it. I decide
that I would dive head first with the block leading the way. I take one last
breath and begin my journey full speed ahead towards the window. By this point
I’m sweating profusely, my heart is racing. I plant my foot to take that final
step and leap………………………..

Complete darkness, has engulfed me. I can’t hear, I can’t see. Am I dead, is
this hell, I know it can’t be heaven. They say if you commit suicide then
surely you will burn in hell for all eternity. So, what, what is this dark
silence that I am now a part of. Is this my hell and eternity of loneliness,
like that damn life that I just left? How cruel is this, at least burning in a
pit of fire would have added a lot more excitement to my mundane life. This,
this is even more unbearable than before. At least before, in my solitude,
there were people around me. There was life and sounds and vision, I can’t even
make a sound myself. I’m all alone with my thoughts, an eternity of just me to
go insane. I wonder how much time has passed. I wonder if there is any time
when you die. I wonder…….. I wonder…….. I should have found another way to deal
with my life, if only I had not killed myself. I wonder if my one eyed cat is
ok. Did anyone feed him when they found my body? I should have taken him to a
shelter or let him out. Maybe he jumped out of the window behind me and is here
also. Now I have an eternity to regret that decision that I made. If only I
could take it all back. What’s that? I hear feint beeping.  It seems to be constant and it’s getting
louder. I can hear a voice, echoing in my head. Someone is calling my name.
It’s one of the sweetest voices that I’ve ever heard. The darkness, the
darkness slowly begins to fade; there is an overwhelming whiteness that ensues,
engulfing the entire area. What could this be?

The beeping is much louder now and the light is burning my eyes, the voices
are much clearer than before. As I open my eyes I see a beautiful angel before
me. She begins to speak to me, explaining what has happened. She informs me
that it’s been a year since the day I wrote my suicide note. She goes on to
tell me how, I saved her life. It appears that as I was running I tripped over
my poor cat and fell and bumped my head sending me into a coma for 12 months
and 14 days. But what happened next is the kicker, the cinder block smashed
onto my floor putting a hole into straight into her apartment. She said that
crash scared her so bad that she dropped the gun she was about kill herself
with and ran upstairs to see what had happened. She says that she saw me lying
there on the floor on top of my poor cat. She picked up the phone and called
911. She went on to tell me that she was a literary agent whom had conceited
failure in her life and was pretty much in the same boat as me. Who knew I’ve
been in that building for 10 years and never even met the woman. She says that
after she called 911 she began looking around my apartment and found my suicide
note and read it. She began to cry, because we shared the same fate. She also
noticed the 10 manuscripts that I had written and took them. After she had
finished reading them all, took a copy of my suicide note and my manuscripts to
some publishers and well, let’s say the rest is history. Because of my note,
and my poor now dead one eyed cat, I never have to live that life ever again.
Every single one of my books was published and I not only became a best selling
author on each title and rich, but I never again have to be lonely. I married
that angel and we now live in really nice home with 2 kids. You never know what
GOD has in store for you, I’m a living testimony to that……..

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Comments
  1. Gerry says:

    If you’re going to off yourself, Vincent van Gogh, Stanislaw Witkiewicz, Benjamin Robert Haydon, Kay Sage, Alfred Maurer, and Diane Arbus all had it right: First get your creative work out there, reap the benefits, and then off yourself.
    An alternate stragegy is to get your creative work out there, reap the benefits, and live to a ripe old age.

    One may be a better choice than the other. But who knows?

    • jlbolden says:

      Well, if it isn’t Gerry spreading his words of wisdom with us today. I agree with you whole heartidly. I figure that this story may help someone going through some things in their life that they may not be able to handle on their own.

  2. jlbolden says:

    Hey, maybe not in complete agreement not all of these guys were famous whilst they were alive. It wasn’t until after death that they achieved the fame they deserved.

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