Unknown
The suicide note
I.
Jared’s shaking hand grabbed the harmless-looking envelope on Mary’s dark brown desk. Feeling numb, he stared at the words written in black ink, whose sharp contrast manifested on a lonely pale sheet of paper, remorseless and irrevocable. It said:
“Dear Jared,
After all that’s happened, everything seems fucked up again. And knowing that it could be so much better doesn’t make it any easier. I can’t take this pain any longer. There have been positive moments, when I was feeling free and like I belonged to something, all at once. Like everything had made some sense, also the bad things. It was like happiness was the gratification for holding on. I thought I’d won a prize for having crossed the dark. I believed that nothing can always go wrong, especially when you’re trying so hard to work things out. But by now I’ve figured out that I was completely wrong.
I know well that no one wants to hear about it. I know that you’re my best friend, and you made me hold on a little longer. But you’d never understand. And I know that you’ve got troubles on your own. You couldn’t have helped me with this anyway. Sometimes you just can’t make it through when you’re all alone. But I wished that I could. And I thought that I should. Now I just don’t wanna fight anymore.
You should’ve realizing as well that locking out is what the world can do best. For most people, feelings are second-rate. Or even less important. Either you have to be damn rich or damn good-looking or damn clever to be accepted and find your place. The main thing for them is to be ignorant. Doesn’t matter at all what happens to this world. Just as if anyone could repair destroyed dreams and chances by spending of their money.
I wonder why it has to be that hard for me. Maybe I should care less. But I just can’t. And I don’t want to. Either the world is crazy or something is damn wrong with me. For no matter how hard I try, I never get what I wish for and what I need. There’s always new problems occurring. You’ve always been there for me and made me feel at ease. But that wasn’t enough. I still wake up dead. Like I’m trapped in an endless nightmare. Zombies on my way. Maybe they’ve been just like me back in the days. I guess I just can’t leave this boulevard of broken dreams as I’m all alone in the dark. I guess it’s gonna end in a dead-end street as the voices of the dead are calling my name. They’ve been after me all along and I fear that one day they’ll succeed. They’re coming to get me. I can feel them even though they’re hiding away from the light of hope.
As long as I won’t find a way to get a life and as long as I can’t end what I’ve never seemed to own, really, I will be the queen of the broken, the beaten and the damned.
Cursed until the end. So don’t mourn for me. It’s not your fault. It’s meant to happen exactly this way. There’s nothing you could do or say. I hope you’ll understand.”
Shocked and with his eyes burning, Jared let the suicide note sink down. The world started to spin around him. Not quite understanding or not willing to understand what he had just read, he sank down on Mary’s old red couch and stared into the room. The room where Mary had told him about her dreams, her ideas and her aims, the small, comfortable room where they used to laugh, to cry, to... Jared covered his face with his hands and started to cry for the only person he had ever believed in and who was now gone forever...
- to be continued -
Jared’s shaking hand grabbed the harmless-looking envelope on Mary’s dark brown desk. Feeling numb, he stared at the words written in black ink, whose sharp contrast manifested on a lonely pale sheet of paper, remorseless and irrevocable. It said:
“Dear Jared,
After all that’s happened, everything seems fucked up again. And knowing that it could be so much better doesn’t make it any easier. I can’t take this pain any longer. There have been positive moments, when I was feeling free and like I belonged to something, all at once. Like everything had made some sense, also the bad things. It was like happiness was the gratification for holding on. I thought I’d won a prize for having crossed the dark. I believed that nothing can always go wrong, especially when you’re trying so hard to work things out. But by now I’ve figured out that I was completely wrong.
I know well that no one wants to hear about it. I know that you’re my best friend, and you made me hold on a little longer. But you’d never understand. And I know that you’ve got troubles on your own. You couldn’t have helped me with this anyway. Sometimes you just can’t make it through when you’re all alone. But I wished that I could. And I thought that I should. Now I just don’t wanna fight anymore.
You should’ve realizing as well that locking out is what the world can do best. For most people, feelings are second-rate. Or even less important. Either you have to be damn rich or damn good-looking or damn clever to be accepted and find your place. The main thing for them is to be ignorant. Doesn’t matter at all what happens to this world. Just as if anyone could repair destroyed dreams and chances by spending of their money.
I wonder why it has to be that hard for me. Maybe I should care less. But I just can’t. And I don’t want to. Either the world is crazy or something is damn wrong with me. For no matter how hard I try, I never get what I wish for and what I need. There’s always new problems occurring. You’ve always been there for me and made me feel at ease. But that wasn’t enough. I still wake up dead. Like I’m trapped in an endless nightmare. Zombies on my way. Maybe they’ve been just like me back in the days. I guess I just can’t leave this boulevard of broken dreams as I’m all alone in the dark. I guess it’s gonna end in a dead-end street as the voices of the dead are calling my name. They’ve been after me all along and I fear that one day they’ll succeed. They’re coming to get me. I can feel them even though they’re hiding away from the light of hope.
As long as I won’t find a way to get a life and as long as I can’t end what I’ve never seemed to own, really, I will be the queen of the broken, the beaten and the damned.
Cursed until the end. So don’t mourn for me. It’s not your fault. It’s meant to happen exactly this way. There’s nothing you could do or say. I hope you’ll understand.”
Shocked and with his eyes burning, Jared let the suicide note sink down. The world started to spin around him. Not quite understanding or not willing to understand what he had just read, he sank down on Mary’s old red couch and stared into the room. The room where Mary had told him about her dreams, her ideas and her aims, the small, comfortable room where they used to laugh, to cry, to... Jared covered his face with his hands and started to cry for the only person he had ever believed in and who was now gone forever...
- to be continued -