Skip to main content

Suicide

Because of the title, there is no way I have suicide on my mind, to commit it, other than to write a short story about the topic, for our writing assignment for the holiday break that was the topic, and I had to also do a section on paragraph expanding, so I banded the two aspects together to complete both exercises. This is about a true story of a man who took his life in his own hands.

                                         Suicide
Selfishness and lack of pride in his family’s history, the black mark on the family tree, stressing the date of the day, the day he became God to end his life, he chose everlasting darkness, the fires of Hell, to the loving arms of his family, leaving his friends to wonder why he did this deed.
 His loving wife and children left behind to morn, cry, wish her had stayed to grow old, be there to guide his grandchild through the hardships of life, not taking this thought into consideration, the child only a few weeks to its birth, coming into a world of sadness, a time of grieving caused by the grandfather’s death by his own hand.
 No one understanding why he did this, the reasoning behind such a drastic way to die, the suffering he must have endured hanging from the branch of the chosen tree, time to look at the other nooses of different lengths, was the first one the one that took his life quickly, or did he have to try a second or third time, praying each try would be the one to snap his neck, take him to the darkness he craved.
 From the catastrophic tale told by his loved ones, he had planned this for a length of time, took his wife bush walking in the area he’d selected, found a supply of drugs to help with the steaming of reality, to carry him to a world without thought, a dream-like state with no consequences for his actions, pictures of another life, floating in space, forever traveling in the land of dreams.
 He had planned what he had intended to do right down to the last detail, acted as though he was a thoughtful, loving husband and father, not once did he give a hint what to expect, he made sure all the work was completed, helped his pregnant daughter to move into a larger flat, she wanted to leave some of the shifting for the next day, no that didn’t fit with the timing of his plans, pleaded he would be busy over the next few days, family believing his working hours to be busy.
 The day arrived to carry out the hanging, to bring to a conclusion his life, to go on his ever lasting journey, in the afternoon he asked his wife to go with him, to take the dog for a walk, for some reason she declined the offer, said she had to finish cooking the evening meal, he left for the walk on his own, even though rain threatened to fall, night closed in, he didn’t return, the police were called to conduct a search, the belief was he may lay injured in the bush, she had to show the police to the area where they usually walked.
 Arriving at the scene everyone was devastated, this was the fourth suicide they’d attended to over the weekend, there he hung by the neck from the branch of his favorite tree, the area littered by smoked drug buts, three nooses dangled from the branch, did one have the name of his wife, the other the dog, leaving behind their three children to survive the tragic deaths of their parents and the dog.
 Where were his brains, had they been fried on the occasion he had been accidental locked in the bakery’s oven, was there some sickness no one knew about, stress from family or money worries, did fear play a part each time he walked into the bakery,  or had he committed a crime he didn’t want family to find out about, being in the heat of the oven, did this attract him to the fires of Hell, to take this theme along the same path, he was cremated to ashes.



 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Spring flowers

These are a couple of my flowers in bloom now. I have been trying to weed out the winter weeds to bring my gardens back to shape. My window of opportunity to do this is closing fast. The rain is impeding my progress. And pain. I have an appointment with the surgeon on Wednesday to see about having a hip replacement.


These are another two rugs I have been crocheting to go to charities. I am working on a round one and have been building different patterned squares to fit together when I have enough made. I have to go to replenish my stock of wool before I have to go to hospital. I will be unable to drive for a few weeks.

                  Nails. Not needles.
Craft work. Today. Has changed since I was a child.
More ways to do the same work. To work with a few stitches in another manner.
Many types of cotton. Or Wool.
Sizes in hooks. And needles.
Every item you need is available in the shops.
My mother used knitting needles. I was never allowed to touch them.
“You’ll break them,” I was told. “Ne…

Finished

I have finished the blue Poncho for the lady who ordered one to be made is different shades of blue. I don't want to do another for awhile. This pattern I had to concentrate to keep the right amount of stitches on each peak. I was still counting them in my sleep. Now. I can go back to making boring squares with the left over bits of wool. I am doing some today to have a spell from work. Once the plumber has been to do his job, I will have to get back to finish my cleaning. And weeding of the garden.





The Magpies have brought their young home to be fed. They are so entertaining. Can be noisy at times when begging to be fed. The young squabble like any family for attention. Fight to get their own way. Yesterday. One of the young wanted to be fed first. The father went to put food in its mouth. The other one ran at it to push it over the side of the steps. Both fell to the grass fighting. The father left holding the meat. He look at me like he was disgusted with their behavior. I sto…

Vision

This was taken when we went on a bus trip.

The animals moved around the shopping center. There were a few different shaped ones. Kept the children busy while the parents shopped.

Vision.
A few days after I had hip surgery, I had this surreal vision. May have been from the effects of the anesthetic. Or the tablets I were given.

I had been a sleep. I seemed to be in a different place to the ward I was in. The room had shrunk to a two bed size. There was a person in the bed next to mine. I could hear breathing but no movement on the bed.

A doorway led to a single bed room. There lay a female of aboriginal descent. The room was mostly in darkness but for a small amount of light from the street outside the hospital.

I could hear cars. Slamming of doors. Then came knocking on the outer door to the hospital. The opening and closing of the door. Footsteps thundering up the stairs. A shadowy figure passed through the doorway to my room then disappeared into the other room. The person stretche…