Warning: Suicide is implied in this story, If you don’t feel comfortable with this than move on.
I don’t know how to start this off, or if I should even be writing this. I don’t even know how I want to word this, I don’t know if this is a goodbye or a story or whatever. Let me start with who I am. My name is and forever will be James, and I am 24 years old. I have struggled throughout life, I bounced from home to home and saw plenty of thing that would fuck up the average person and you can trust me, it did. After I turned 18 I was dumped on the street and was basically told to fuck off and get an apartment. I tried to go to friends’ houses and previous homes but I had no luck. It took a while but I found a nice bench to sleep on for about a year. Only then did I get a small job because I finally found a job an hour’s walk from my bench. I met a nice woman at my job a year later and we eventually moved in together, correction I moved into her apartment.
It was the first time in a year I had a roof and a washing machine. We were together for four years after that. About a month ago we broke up and she kicked me to the street like my foster house so many years ago. I was able to get a very small apartment with the money I saved up. I was able to buy a mattress and a thin sheet to cover up with. Sense then I lost my job and I lost so much progress I work so hard for. Three year ago my girl bought me a 45 pistol and a small box of ammo. Today is the day I get evicted but that won’t matter after I post this. Let me get to the meat of the story. About a day ago I slipped on a pizza box I left on the floor. I fell and cracked my head on the floor. I passed out and woke up in a flat, dark and slightly wet world. When I say slightly wet I’m talking like 3 inches of water and it’s not a puddle, it’s everywhere.
I started walking and I never saw anything but I started hearing things, and some of them sounded familiar. I started having the feeling of deja vu, this was a feeling I rarely had. I walked for so long that I lost track of how long I had been walking. The sounds got louder and I realized they weren’t just senseless sounds but words, all the voices were one I had heard before, me, my girl, most of my foster parents. I hadn’t realized it yet but the water had been lowering or the ground was at a slant. When I finally reached dry land the voices were very noticeable and it would be very hard for someone not to notice. I walked on the land and I watched as the ground became wood and walls started being built around me. In the walls were doors that lead to parts of my life. I looked through them and reiniced and cringed. After what felt like years I came across a worn door that looked like it wasn’t meant to be opened. This door was supposed to be red and have an intricate design on it but the door was cracked and falling away, the paint was peeling and the door knob was rusted and beaten to high hell.
I reached for the door knob and twisted it. I felt the rust grind inside the door and I heard the hinges yell at me. I pushed the door open to find a leather armchair in front of a box TV. The room itself was pitchblack other than the TV. As I moved closer I saw the TV was playing static and there was a person sitting in the chair. This person put their hand up and I stopped moving, involuntarily might I add.
“Do you know who I am and do you know where you are?” he asked without standing or looking away from the TV which I now saw was playing only static.
“I have no clue who you are and I sure as shit don’t know where in hell I am.” I said with more anger than I probably should have. The man just smiled and I saw rows of sharp teeth that stretched from ear to ear, almost literally.
“I don’t think my name is as important as where you are, which just so happens to be your mind” he said this in a way that made me feel uneasy.
“I still want to know who you are and what you want” I said with a little less anger than last time.
“That’s the meat of the situation, I want nothing more than for you to end. It. all.” He said, slowly rising from his chair.
I didn’t try to understand because there wasn’t anything to misinterpret. He wanted me to kill myself, and to be honest I didn’t have a problem with it.
“To seal our deal all I need is a handshake” he reached out his hand and I was able to move again.
I didn’t say anything more to him and I reached my hand to meet his, and we shook on it. I awoke to find myself in a puddle of my own blood from where I had hit my head. I pulled myself to my feet and didn’t bother to cover the wound. I went to bed and woke up today and now I’m writing this. I don’t know if this is a goodbye note or a tale of what happened but either way I don’t think I can hold him off much longer. Goodbye.