The Easy Way

He was born with so much promise, so much skill… so much talent. Born to loving parents, his father worked his ass off to get where he was today, his mother made sure he wanted for nothing. Maybe even spoiling him a bit too much.

At primary school he was one of the cool people, he was friends with everyone. They were all local to him, all in the same village. He loved nothing more than playing with his friends in the playground, rarely getting into trouble.

Of course secondary school came along, the best secondary school in his town and he was forced to meet new kids, kids that thought they were “it”. They tried to assert their dominance as the “hardest kid in year”. He wasn’t bothered about this however, he just wanted to be friends with everyone but after the first month one of the kids tried their luck with him. Pinning him up against the wall and head butting him. Did he cower away? Of course not, to do so would be a failure to the male species.

No, he fought back. He snapped, pinned the guy down to the ground and smashed his stupid face in repeatedly. The teachers pulled him off of the ailing child and he was suspended.

Over the course of that year he had gotten into more fights and everytime he fought back he was served with a suspension from the head teacher while the original starters of the fights remained unscathed by the principles wrath.

The second year of secondary school came, he was on his last chance. One more suspension and he would be x-pelled from the most prestigious school in his town. In the whole county perhaps. With every suspension came another level of disappointment from his father, he tried to tell him that he wouldn’t back down from a fight, he knew his father wouldn’t so why should he?

Things went pretty well in the second year… for the first month, one more fight. A kick to the testicles were enough to send him over the edge, he flipped. He had to be pulled off by the teachers, not thinking he swung his fist trying to break free. He turned around, the principle laid there holding his eye. What had he done?

Days later he was thrown out of the school permanently. It’s moments like this they refer to as a “future shock”. He had been destined for greatness but now he was forced to be sent to the roughest school in town. No one else wanted him, this school took anyone. The students that were already there were mostly made up of drug takers, thieves, arsonists, rapists. He didn’t find many friends when he was sent here, they didn’t like new people.

It was here where he was bullied, he took the bullying because he didn’t want to disappoint his father any further, he didn’t want to be a delinquent all of his life. The constant name calling, the mental abuse, the physical violence. It took their toll on him, it made him cry himself to sleep every night.

The first few months were hard, harder than he’s ever experienced. Being pinned up by the throat against the tennis courts cage wall, he’d had enough. He snapped, he headbutted his fellow class mate. He punched him, grabbed his arm blocking a punch, wrapping it against the tennis courts wall and slamming the steel door shut on it. He heard his classmates arm break. The kid yelped out in a pain that was absolute.

He had been served with his first suspension. More fights followed after that, but after awhile they stopped. People started to realise that they really shouldn’t be messing with him anymore. He was driven to the edge of his sanity already and he was only in his mid teens.

School finished years later, in the end he had made many friends. He went to college, met some of the people he’s been closest to for the past decade. He met his girlfriend. However college proved to be pointless as he went from deadend job to deadend job. His failing in his fathers eyes continued, being fired from the job he’d worked at for 4 years for simply making rash comments about the company on a social networking site.

His girlfriend soon left him for someone else.

This started off a trend where he could barely keep a job down for more than a year, always getting fired for some insane reason or another or just outright quitting. Then one fine day he entered the world of customer service.

A nice telephone manner they said he had, the type of person that people can approach. He spoke to these people, having to cater to their requests while each time a part of him dies inside. He put on a happy face in front of his friends, he was the life of the party, everyone loved him. Not only did he make them laugh but he protected them. Each and every single one of his friends were his family. He cared for them more than himself. If any of them got into trouble, he’d be the first one jumping into the fray and saving them from suffering any kind of pain.

But inside he was dark, he had evil thoughts. He wanted to do bad things. Maybe it was from the time at school or the constant failings since and watching others succeed where he hadn’t. He was jealous. Even now he looks at his friends and he is filled with pure bitterness and hatred. Why couldn’t he have their lives? Why couldn’t he have their job? Their girlfriend? Their everything?

Why was nature constantly screwing him over? He thought this as he smiled at them while grinding his teeth. He didn’t do drugs, he never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. Why couldn’t just once someone throw him a break?

The firing trend continued as his hatred began to seep through. He quit his first customer service job due to the lack of hours. It was at this place where he met someone he absolutely fell in love with.

She was the first person to convince him that there was good inside of him. That he was a good person to be around. However when they came to a disagreement she would tear his heart out and tell him how much of a horrible, evil person he was. Only to take it back hours later, but the pain remained.

Eventually she had finished stringing him along and ended things in favour of a lesser man. A violent alcoholic. The type of person that bullied him at school. He contemplated suicide.

He went to call centres. He hated call centres pretty quickly. The bitterness filtered into his life, he got angry with the customers. Told them what they didn’t want to hear. What no one wanted to hear.

He tried working abroad however he even failed at that and came home soon after. He met a new woman in his life that convinced him that there was some good in his soul. That he wasn’t an ethicless, despicable human being. Though in his mind, he knew different.

He trusted her enough to tell her of his evil thoughts, the pain he wanted to inflict on the people he loved. Not because he wanted to but because he felt so much rage inside. She said to him, “The reason you are good is because you are able to restrain from doing evil things.”

He somewhat believed it.

“I’m not willing to continue your employment.” He was told in another call centre job. After two years in customer service he vowed to himself that he’d never do customer service again.

He looked for something else, he was going to go for something else. Instead he went with the other option. An easier option of another customer service job. “It won’t be the same.” he told himself. How wrong he was, he should have known better. Any type of customer service always ends the same way. However this time he was paid more money but with a lot more responsiblity. Passed to him by a manager who didn’t want to do his job due to receiving a pay cut.

Working until 9pm most evenings he was mostly on his own for the last two hours. Being trusted to lock up the entire building. He sat there in silence for the last two hours contemplating… well, everything. It was very rare customers called during the evening hours.

After the days he had been having he just wanted to go to bed and never wake up. It had been a while since he cried himself to sleep but recently it started occurring again. There was nothing he could do about it. The tears flowed. The thoughts of ending it all came to surface yet again.

He went downstairs, ignoring the ringing phone. Rope wrapped around the shelving in the warehouse of where he worked. He unwrapped it from the shelves and got a good length of it. He took it upstairs, the phone was still ringing. He answered it, it was a customer chasing what was happening with his order. He spoke to the customer politely and calmly as he began making a loop and a knot on one end of the rope/cable.

“Thank you very much, you’ve been a terrific help! Have a good night sir!” The customer chirped.

“Oh no problem and you have yourself a good evening too.” He replied. He put the phone down.

“At least I could make someone happy.” He said to himself as he threw the rope over one of the wooden beams in the office which he then tied to the desk leg.

9pm hit the clock, his shift was over with. He locked the building, he didn’t want anyone breaking in after all. But instead of leaving and setting the alarm, he went back upstairs to the office.

He climbed up to the top of the desk, placed the looped end around his neck. The knot was done so it could tighten, it strangled him. Almost cutting off the air supply to his body. He worried about what others might think of him. But this was part of the problem, he was always worried what others thought of him. For once he was thinking of himself. He was doing something HE wanted to do, something that no one could stop him from doing.

He closed his eyes and stood there in complete silence. His life flashed before his eyes as he leapt from the desk. The knot tightened even more as he instinctively fought for breath.

It’s automatic that the body wants to survive, but his mind kept to the plan. He choked, he spluttered, he shook, he shivered.

It only took moments until all those movements ceased, moments until all that promise and talent he was born with faded away into obscurity and in silence once more, he hung there; in peace at last.

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21 thoughts on “The Easy Way

  1. Wow, you really got into the mind of someone contemplating suicide. You’re an excellent writer! I think everyone can understand this, but this comes closer to my life than I’d care to admit. Thank you.

  2. Yikes! So sad. I’ve known 9 people who have committed suicide. I think that’s a lot. It’s just so tragic. I think in your story you show how things can spiral out of control so quickly and then one day you wake up and you feel worthless and unlovable. It’s not easy to capture the emotional decent of a character. Nice work!

    • Definitely about 9 too many. It is tragic but it’s easy to see where they’re coming from sometimes. One day you’re at the end of your rope and you think “ah why not.” Let’s just hope they’re in a better place.

  3. I read a book once, written by someone who had a near death experience, and she said if we knew how awesome it was on the other side we would all kill ourselves. That sounds promising, huh?
    Also when Steve Jobs was dying, right before he took his last breath he said, “Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow!” Makes me curious about what he was seeing….?

  4. I love this, your writing is fantastic! I wouldn’t say suicide is an ‘easy way out’, though. It takes a lot of determination and almost superhuman strength to keep yourself from the natural tug of survival. This story reminds me a little of a line from an Emilie Autumn song,

    ‘A story I heard a long time ago about a girl (and this is funny),
    She wants to die but what she doesn’t know,
    Is how long it takes for the water to rise,
    And the breath to stop fighting,
    And the cold to close her eyes…’

    Suicide is a very personal thing and it takes a lot to reach that decision. To even consider that someone might me low enough to even consider it, is a tragedy in itself. Your writing is just brilliant in representing how one person reaches such a decision.

    And ‘He didn’t do drugs, he never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it’ made me giggle, which just shows what a great writer you are, in using humour to relieve the pressure. Well done Pete! :D

    • I don’t suppose it’s an easy way out really but it’s easier than continuing to receive the mental anguish for years to come.

      I was personally proud of this piece though so I’m glad you liked it too :) it’s not often I’m proud of things I write but this one flowed so freely. Perhaps a little too freely… hmmmmm…

      • Perhaps it isn’t easier, though. Perhaps it’s more logical? Don’t take my word for it though. I’ve had too many psychiatry sessions to know what’s logical and what isn’t. Are those flying pink mice? Why yes, yes they are.

        On the one hand I can see that a life of misery cut short is not such an unimaginable thing, and on the other we all die at the end of it anyway, so why cut it any shorter? These are genuinely the kind of questions that keep me awake at night until the sleeping pills drag me off into sleep. Mmm. Sleeping pills.

        ‘The game of life is hard to play, you’re gonna lose it anyway’ :)

  5. You really have a talent at writing dark pain filled things. Perhaps he should have held out a bit longer. He might have met the woman of his dreams two days from then. Like Bonnie and Clyde.

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