Suicide isn't painless
By
Robert Wells
© 2004 The knife glistered in the moonlight as he stood in the soft grass meadow . The moon was a bright and orange shape in the night sky as the dark rang cloud floated and the air was filled with the chirp of insect and the sound of bat wing catching the moist air breeze and gliding across the night. He looked at the darkened houses of suburbia and their humble occupants slept resting in the small hours of the knew day. Sam looked at the polish sliver blade of the ornate knife. He purchased it at the markets strictly for this purpose and that alone. It would bridge the barrier of life and death ane let him leave this world of pain, this world of torment. A world that scorn him the day his eyes first parted and was allowed to breath air. A world that had dealt him card after card on the accused table. Woe and misery. His parent were evil and insane workaholics who cared only for profit and so he was orphaned by fate, he searched for people to care for him. He eventually was freed from his cage at 16 and went on his quest. Few of many like him, many pitied him which he resented. But they truly didn't care. He sat in his room and waited, desperately long for the phone to ring and a friendly voice to bring him cheer. The call were very few and far between. He had no career, no friends, no one to greeting him when he return from work. "Work?" he muttered to himself. He worked as a baker. what purpose did that serve. No great and noble life. He merely sat and waited for the bread to bake and serve it. "I be due for work soon." he said as he looked at the blade. Sam felt it speak to him in it silver tongue. "Come Sam, life has no purpose, life has no value. Look around. No one to hear you pleases for mercy from the cold and unforgiving fates. All that left is death, why prolong the pain. Take me your friend, the best friend you ever had. I spare you the pain, I stop the curse of life by ended the flow of blood. By piercing you heart and liberating your soul." called the blade as the wind arched down the park valley and just through the reeds and glass that had grew long in the time. He held the blade gently in his hand and watch his face gleam back. His horrid evil face. The face of weakness and misfortune personified as he gaze as his beady black eyes and malformed feature. Who could care about such a being. Sam laid down against the soft bed of crash and held the blade skyward above his chest. His hand slowly contracted around the held and he readied himself. He stared at the blade and look at the orange moon. The orange moon stood their uncaring as he held the blade to his heart. He thrust the blade slowly piercing through the bone and cutting into the soft tissue of his heart. His eyes winded and he felt coldness drift inside his heart and spread out amongst his body. His mind beckon the coldness of death in invitingly it came and the moonlight faded form his sight as his blood began to stain the grass red, the colour of blood.

Sam awoke in a darkened place, wall of stone and an ornate fire lit the room as the darkness surrounded him. "no, no. I wanted oblivion. I'm a atheist. No hell, no purgatory just an end" he screamed at angry. "Greeting dead one, I am the all mighty spectre of death, scourge of humanity, mercy of the feeble and fear of the weak." said a large figure behind him. Out walked on bleached white legs carrying a deep purple robe and handling a large wooden scythe. A hood draped over his face to hide his true form as the thing white talon tightly the staff. "high, there is some mistake. I meant to be in oblivion and I here. So do you trick and sail me down the river." said Sam arrogantly to the spectre. The spectre raise it hand and pointed "You! Have desecrated the most sacred of . You decide to end your own existence by your own hand. This crime is unforgivable." spoke the spectre angrily. "What?" exclaimed Sam in surprise. "Life is a rare gift, few earn it. We forgive them. But those who take the gift, spit on it and throw themselves willing into my outstretched mercy." said death as he gripped the scythe angrily. His robe waved with his voice, his face still concealed by the thick cloth. " but I had no idea, life is no is a horrid evil demented curse with no purpose but to cause pain and woe and misery. You should kill everyone now and spare the, the torture of life." replied Sam fuming in ignorance. "you have no idea how great your life have no idea how beautiful your life was compared to those around you." said the spectre howling in anger. A strange a unnatural; at coming from such an inhumane being. "What? You speak foul an evil lies." replied Sam. Death's head shook underneath the thick satin. "Watch as I show you the horror's of other lives that still live and the wonder's never seen." and with that the stone room instantly vanished and his ight melted away.

Sam awoke in a desolate place, a place here the river rang as a thick and unholy sludge, the building were foul pieces of twisted and battered wood along a makeshift road that was covered with dust. The sun beat down like a ball of boiling lava scorning against his skin. He notice a lone blade of grass by his feat. He knelt don and touch the dry grass and watch it slowly crumbled in his hand and the blistering hot wind wafted through his open palm and carried the shards away. He looked around the desolate streets at the people. The people lay their, their frail and thin body stills managed in the desert heat. Many were starving their eyes white as the old and feeble stared up at the sky. Barely breath slowly their eyes shit and their feeble ribs began to stop as he watched the people still barely clinging to death. A starving child began to eat the dust happily smile came across his face as Sam watch the horror. Suddenly a jeep came screaming like a bullet in and pierced right through him as if he were a ghost. The jeep screeched to a halt and solider walked out from the jeep. Rifle and machine gun in their hands as the looked around the villager. The villager stared in fear and many began to feeble and frantically flee as the shot began to fly. The sick and lame were first to go as the solider began to brutally massacre them as the plead for mercy, he watch them brutal die and suffer until life left their bodies. The child who had been so happy as he munch upon the very earth now looked up as the commander of the soldiers. He stood above the child now crying and shard of mud rang down his face. The solider lifted his heavy leather boot and ram it down onto the boy skull and lifted it up. Bone and blood fallen as he return the boot to his side. "This happens nearly every day, whether it here or in the frozen wasteland or the city of your civilisation. People starve, suffer and get murdered every day. They flee from war and terror. Are oppressed and starve to death. Their still refuse to take their own life. That did not curse the gift. I seen people have the choice of a gun shot to end their life and a starving death. People rather starve than end their own life" spoke the figure. "my life was a and as there" said Sam still stupid and ignorant of the pain of other. Once again they faded away to a new place.

They appeared in a graveyard. Sam walked towards the nearness crowd and gazed amongst the people. "I know these people" said Sam. "yes, this is your funeral." spoke death as he pointed to the head stone. "Sam Henderson" he repeated as he read the chiselled stone. He looked upon the faces. "my parent could have shown up" said Sam in angry. The reaper raise his arm and pointed to two tomb stone that lay beside him. Their name red the same. "on the news of your suicide they blame themselves and your mother jumped from her office to the ground and your father took the same knife and pierced his heart. We have excused their weakness as they went mad and did it in unsound mind" Spoke the figure. "Wow, I never though but they were so busy with work?" Sam said curiously. "Yes, and now hundreds will be out of work. No on to take the company. Your idiot cousin shall liquidate it, and gamble away the fortunate and in five years time he be shot by gangsters on a men room floor." spoke the figure. "How can you see the future?" asked Sam cursorily. "I'm death, enough said." he replied. His best friend walked to make a speech. "He won't last." said death. "What?" asked Sam. "your death shall change him, he depend on you for guidance, you told him to cheap working hard and told him his life had value. He held these words close to his heart. He'll give up uni and spend the rest of his day working at the hamburger shop, only until he dies and old and lonely man." spoke the figure. "lies all lies." spoke Sam. "I will show you in time." he said angrily. A young women sat crying in the corner as she looked about the fields. "that the new apprentice, what is she doing here?" asked Sam curiously. "She loved you, she knew it but she was to scared and shy to tell you. She planned to tell you soon. She was trying to summon the courage but now she never marry. And end up a lonely figure." he spoke. " of the others" he said stuttering. "Some will take it well and grew better but their hearts will never be free from the guilt that they should have done more to prevent your demise. Some will be in an out of mental health facilities. Many will cry every time they hear your name. But no one will ever say an ill word against. They believe it al their fault. And may drive them mad." spoke death truly. "No, please end this take me back. I don't want to die!" spoke Sam as fear gripped his heart. "To crime is done and now you must suffer." he said half insane with a tone of malevolence weaved through the voice. "Why? Why show me this?" same asked scarred. "Death heeded his cloak and draped it across Sam body. And hand him the scythe. Suddenly flesh began to fad from Sam body as he watch his bone grew out from the cloak. "Why who take his own, must take those of others. You be free soon as you claimed enough people. A million or so and shown them the way. And with that the bone deaminated and scattered against the cold ground as Sam touch his own face. Hard cold bone scrapped a loud and piercing noise and he knelt and try to cry. But no eyes were their to shed tears. The cloak order him to his next task. He rued his death, because death consumed him.