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They opened another one.
Right down the street near my house.
I know that ever since congress passed the “Full Domain Autonomy Act” to widespread acclaim that they started popping up everywhere. Most of the time you can find them in shopping centers near Medical Clinics.
“Autonomy houses”.
That’s what they call them.
On the outside it looks like any old Doctors offices. The same thing inside. You go there. You walk in and there are two sides to the place.
On the right there is the suicide clinic.
On the left is the abortion clinic.
In a speech when the first ones openend Dick Cheney said that using these facilities was our “God given” right.
That there is nothing more American than taking control of yourself.
I couldn’t agree more. Ever since I was young I had been depressed. I attempted suicide 4 or 5 different times before the age of 18 but with no success. I was always a bit of a coward. Maybe that’s why I never succeeded.
No more of that though. This is my second visit to the Autonomy House. It’s a Wednesday. Everyone inside is kind, they make you feel welcome. Like you belong there. Like you are doing the right thing. I talked the doctor. He said my number finally went through and that the procedure would be on in two days. ON FRIDAY. I have it in writing.
“Suicide Writ”
That’s the official term.
I post on Facebook and Twitter that “I’m Gearing up for the weekend”. Multiple people comment to the tune of “NO INVITE???” and “Where are you going?”. I’m not gonna reply to them. Everyone knows me as an outgoing, loving guy that definitely wouldn’t off himself. No need to shatter that illusion.
That night I’m ecstatic. I throw on some shitty show and eat some pizza. Eventually my eyelids start to get a bit heavy. I start to fall a bit and I jolt awake.
Or not…
I’m in a room.
A single fire burns at the center of it and there is and it only shows light on the side of the wall I’m near. I figure I’m dreaming but it’s way too vivid. There is no fuzzy-ness to this dream. Should’nt I feel like I’m in a dream?
There is nothing really remarkable about the room. The fire is on a pedestal in the center. It seems like a domed shape room. There is nothing off besides the fact that only one side of the room is illuminated and the other side is pitch black…..
The shadows move.
“The Shadows are Moving?”
Cold seems to take me I feel like I’m doped to the gills on drugs or something. I feel a pressure on my chest.
Something turns. It turns smoothly to face in my direction. What? What is that?
Black feathers.
The face of a deer with antlers.
Burning Eyes, Dead eyes.
Hands and legs dangling from his stomach.
The feet are human with feathers here and there sticking out.
It’s fully facing me now.
Terror begins to take my mind. It’s…..touching me. Not physically though. I feel him looking at me still as a stone. His eyes burn. Hatred. Pure Hatred.
I jolt awake. This time for real…..What the hell was that? I still feel something in my head, wriggiling. There is also a word that I feel.
Molach……Molach.
I’m not remembering this word. It’s been…..etched into me. Like my being accepts this word….and the feeling of dread that comes with.
I call my doctor the next day and explain to him that I’m not feeling well enough to commit suicide. This is the first time since I’ve talked to him that he actually opposed me. “We can’t just call it off”. “The room has been reserved, the staff and equipment requisitioned”. He keeps explaining to me and I honestly have no problems with what he is saying reasonably it all makes sense.
The feeling though. The soul etched word stops me. Molach. What the hell is that.
It doesn’t take long for me find out as I fall asleep again that night.
The room is half illuminated. Fire burning on a roman pedestal and there is someone standing beside the fire. It’s Humanoid.
It turns to face me.
I know him. He’s the one that setup the suicide clinics. He saw the act through congress to its conclusion. Dick Cheney.
I’m losing it. There’s no way I’m dreaming of Dick fucking Cheney.
He greets me. “Why hello there.”
I’m still dumbfounded.
“No need to speak. Yesterday the old one introduced himself to you did’nt he? The first time it can be rough.”
The old one? I look up and see the burning eyes. When the hell did it get there???
“He was always there.” Former Vice President Dick Cheney says.
“HE’S always there.”
Eyes burning. Burning with hatred. Arms and legs dangling from its neck and torso. One of them is a child- no baby’s arm.
“Molach” The former V.P. chimes in. “ Molach the end times. If you wanna be romantic.”
I’m dizzy. A tunnel forms around my vision. I start to feel the cold terror that infected me last night.
“I’m elated to see that you are utilizing the services hard taxpayer money is paying for.”
“There is only one issue. When someone signs a suicide writ there is a 100 percent chance they use the service.”
“To date after 10 years no one has decided not too pass on when the writ has been signed…..curious”
“No matter though. The great one has already seen that when you awaken that you will be more….amicable to your demise.”
“Its important that people utilize these services to the fullest. It keeps me and a select number of “His” disciples spry and sharp.”
What the hell. What is he saying. I stare at him.
Then I stare up.
Burning. Eyes that burn with hatred. Burning right into my soul…….
I wake up.
I make breakfast.
I turn on the T.V. and let it play the local news. My phone rings. “Mr. Shepperd I’ve got you down for a 10AM this morning with Doctor so-and-so would you please confirm?”
I say “Yes” while nodding.
“Excellent. Well we will expect you in the next couple hours. The office is kept at 63 degrees so dress accordingly.”
The Autonomy Houses are your God-given right. They are meant to be used. Use them. Lord knows your hard earned taxpayer dollars will still be going to them.