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Diary Entry #1

I always said that I’d die by 21.  Looking up at frighteningly unfamiliar leaves as I realize “what a grotesque thing a rose is.”

I turned 22 this year.  But if the last six months are indicative of something, I shouldn’t have turned 22.

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Short Stories · Uncategorized

Life After Death (Concept)

You’re the last person in the universe.

How long could you survive?

How long would you want to?


“How many times have I been here before?”  He thought looking out and down his apartment window.  He wouldn’t jump.  The fear of heights.  The nasty splatter.  How would his mom see him?  But the wind rushing and the finality of it.

He turned around, went back to desk, pulled out a syringe, and overdosed.  Half-intentionally.  He could feel his breathing slow.  His eyes fell.  He had a last minute of fear and regret as the world seemed to collapse on him and that was that.

The next the day the sun rose.  No one came into his room the next day.  He’s had enough fights with his mom for her to give in and yell “good morning”s and “good night”s and “I love you”s from beyond the closed door.  She went to work and came back.  Left dinner on the table for him.

At school all his friends thought he must have skipped.  Everyone on their own would shoot him a text.  His teachers checked with each other and had the administration call home.

The call came.  His mom broke down.  His friends shook.  Even the people at school that had just brushed shoulders with him felt it.  There was something off about that school until the population turned over.

In his note he said he couldn’t find a reason to live anymore.  He was frustrated.  He was tired.  It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but he had lost any drive to live his life without a thought as to his mon’s son’s life.  Or his friends’ friend’s life.  His teachers’ student’s life.  His classmates’ peer’s life.

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To Dad

I’ve never seen Dad weak, but his voice shook and for the first time in my life he said he wasn’t okay.

Dad has had heart attacks and been kicked by horses.  He’s gone through some rough patches financially and mentally but he never admitted any vulnerabilities.

I can’t imagine how you must be taking this.  I’m sorry I can’t help.

I’ll be the first to admit.  I don’t always like you and I’m sure you don’t always like me.  But Dad I love you.