Title: It's A Living

Summary: On a quest to end his life, a suicidal man finds new intrigue and new friends in the world and possibly a reason to go on living..

Rating: R

Genre: Drama, Comedy

Chapter One

After The End

The barren desert of my life was supposed to be over.

The patheticness was supposed to have ended, the sadness complete, the worthlessness done.

However, following the same pattern as the rest of my existance, I had failed.

I don't know how. Wether it be the fact that I called some of the people in my life to gloat about how I would die soon or that I took two hours after calling them to begin the deed, I dunno but somehow the medics got to me before my ordeal was finished and I was treated and immediatly put in Satoshi Medical Hospital to rot.

It was one sad event after another. That was the story of my-

Owch.

It was true, I am pathetic. I can't even sleep without screwing up and now I've fallen out of bed and lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. What a sad, sad sight.

"Mr. Nokomo?"

Ah, good ol' Nurse coming in to see if I was alright.

"Get out." I answered with a sigh and buried my head with my hands.

"Are you alright, Mr. Nokomo?"

I never did figure out why she called me 'Mr' seeing as how no one in the hospital really showed me any respect. They tied me down, forced meds down my throat, and did basically whatever they wanted with me.

"No, I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"Oh, don't talk like that." Nurse was a fat, southern thing that I absolutely despised. She was too damn happy about everything. Optimism was a terrible disease, one that I'd hoped doctors would find a cure for but Nurse was the living, waddling truth that there was no cure. "It's about time for your one o'clock."

She used her fat, meaty arms to help me to my feet. It was sad how she stood just about as tall as I did and even sadder than she was twice as strong. She put one of those sausage arms of her's over my shoulder and began to lead me out of the room and down a hallway.

The halls of the hospital were all gray. Everything was gray except for me. I was regular colored, like people should be but everyone here seemed gray. It was depressing.

I stood about 5;8 or 9 with a thick mess of black hair and the briefest stubble of a beard on my tan face. Dark brown eyes topped off my facial features. I wasn't a very strong man, actually quite slim. My mother used to always comment about my body type and would try to force vegetables down my throat. That is, before she became and prescription medication addict and died while I was still in high school.

Nurse led me a ways down the hall and opened the door to Room 101. The entered with a bitter sneer and laid down on the cliche couch like I always did, waiting for the man I wanted to kill to arrive.

Dr. Acula. Well, that wasn't really his name. I couldn't remember what his real name was. He'd told me several times but I chose not to listen so I just called him Dr. Acula.

The door opened and in came the good doc. He was deathly pale with greased back black hair. His white coat's collar was popped up, circling his head in a comical way. He stood well over six foot and was possibly more skinny than I. Every time the doctor entered the room it felt like things turned to a grainy black and white feeling. Like we were in some old movie.

"Good evening." The man said with his annoying accent.

"It's morning." I said back, rolling my eyes at the doctor's idiocy.

"Of course." Dr. Acula said as he made his way over to his recliner and sat down. He crossed his legs and cleared his throat, "How did you sleep?"

"Good."

"Did you dream?"

"No."

"Are you feeling well?"

"Yes."

"Any suicidal thoughts lately?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to die?"

"Yes."

"Very good. I think we accoomplished a lot today."

With that. Doctor Acula stood and made his way over to the door. He stretched, "I need a drink. Wait for me here, please." The bastard said before stepping out of the room and leaving me alone.

That was how my psychiatric appointments usually went. We never really accomplished anything but the doctor was content with it. He was an idiot afterall.

Everyone at Satoshi Medical Hospital were. The other patients were all insane, the doctors were idiots, and the nurses were annoying. I kind of wanted to take them with me when I died.

I looked down at the two white bandages that were wrapped around my wrist. Next time I wouldn't slit my wrists, it was much too painful and surprisingly messy. I didn't know I had that much blood in me.

I constantly pondered how I would go about it next time. There was overdose on sleeping pills, jumping off a building, hanging, shooting myself, running front of a car or train, ect ect. It really was a difficult decision to make.

But first of all, I had to find a way out of the damned hospital.

I'd tried asking nicely. I asked Nurse, Doctor Acula, and just about everyone else if I could go and they all answered me with a no. That meant there was only one answer.

I had to make a escape.

The door opened again and Doctor Acula returned.

"Thank you for waiting." He walked over to me and bent over me. He widened his eyes and stared into mine, "Look into my eyes. You do not want to kill yourself. You want to live."

"No, I don't." I answer, staring into his strangely alluring gaze.

"You don't?" Acula sat up with a puzzled look, "Hm, well, I tried." He shrugged and called for Nurse. She waddled into the room, "Our session is complete, you can take him back to his lunch now."

Now, this part of the story is called 'My Great Escape.' It's very exciting so pay attention.

Nurse led me down the halls to the lunchroom. It was basically just a huge room with tables that all the patients sat at and ate their daily meals of slop, crap, and pills. It was very delicious.

I ate alone. If anyone came by I snapped at them, told them to leave, said something about their mothers, and they respectfully left. I didn't need any psychos befriending me.

Today, I ate my slop, swallowed my crap, and told my pills for a couple bucks to a schitzo who thought his name was Boris Karloff and walked around moaning and knocking things over. Then, I put my plan in motion.

Standing, I made my way out into the halls, making the excuse that if I didn't get some exercise soon then I would snap. This is a mental hospital, if you say you're going to snap then people usually beleive you.

I made my way down the halls, towards the lobby. The lobby was a small room with a receptionist and two large, double doors that led to freedom.

The receptionist was the toughest part of my escape.

If she saw me, she could ahve me tackled and pinned to my bed as quickly as a press of the button. I had to find a way to get past her. Seduction would never work as I was pretty sure she was a lesbian. I couldn't attack her because hitting a woman was against my code. However, I had a plan.

"Boris!" I called to the large behemoth sitting at the table. The schitzo looked up after shovling the pills I'd sold him down his throat and I motioned for him to follow. The large man groaned and stood, stomping after me.

When the schitzo made his way up to me, I whispered to him. "I got some more pills for you, buddy."

"Wah?" The psycho grunted.

"Right over there." I said with a grin, pointing across the lobby. He would have to walk past the receptionist in order to get there. "Go get'em, Karloff."

With a mad shout, the giant stomped out into the open and made his way across the floor.

The receptionist stood, "Mr. Stanley?" She said, "You are not permitted to be out here."

Mr. Stanley, or Boris Karloff as he called himself, grunted loudly and knocked over a table that was in his path. The receptionist pressed the red button on her desk and the schitzo was immediatly tackled by six or seven white-clad men. The receptionist walked around her desk and prepared to inject a needle in the subdued patient.

That was my cue.

I ran from my hiding spot and pressed the other button on her desk. This button opened the double doors that led outside. Then, I quietly made a mad dash for the outside. I could feel the cool breeze touching my skin as I took my first steps outside and flew down the sidewalk like a man on fire.

The sun felt warm against my flesh and the wind was refreshing running up my hospital gown. I was free.

I ran down town, passing various people who stared at me like I was insane. Of course, I couldn't blame them. It's not common to see a hospital gown clad man running at full speed down the sidewalk in broad daylight.

My escape from Satoshi Mental Hospital was successful. All that was left was to purchase some new clothes, get something good in my stomach, and kill myself.

This time, however, I wouldn't screw up. Not only that but it was going to be perfect.

I was going to find the perfect suicide!

It's A Living

by ilze09

To Be Continued...

Notes:

Well, there's the first chapter. In case you haven't noticed, this story is going to be a lot more lighthearted and comedy ridden then my usual depressing, emotional stuff. Also, I'm wondering if anyone has caught my various refrences in this story. This story will have heavy refrences and influences from actor Bela Lugosi, the famous B-movie star whose most famous roles were as Dracula and in films like The Invisible Ray. Refrences include:

The name of the story is from Lugosi's famous quote "It's a living."

The doctor's name is Dr. Acula. Say it together. Doctor Acula. Doesn't it sound something like Dracula. Thank you Ed Wood.

The patient Mr. Stanley calls himself Boris Karloff and stomps around grunting and knocking stuff over. This is similar to the actions of Frankenstein who was played by Boris Karloff, the famous rival of Bela Lugosi.

Well, those are just a few references to Mr. Lugosi so far and there are hundreds of more in this story and my others. If you don't know who Bela Lugosi is then look him up. He was a great man.

Also, please read my other stories 'Espoir' and 'Wrenches in the Gears' and if you want me to review your story then just say so and I'll get to it.

Thanks and keep reading!