A woman in her wedding gown, sprawled on the floor. Multiple cuts on her wrists neck and thigh. Blood spread across the clean wooden floor. No one will find her until a good three hours later when she fails to pick up multiple phone calls to her place. Not many will know she has taken her own life because the man she is with was no longer the man she married.
Second floor of an apartment building, there is a man preparing suicide. It seemed too obvious to him considering the misgivings he thinks he had to deal with. He does not consider about anyone else being worse off. He finds his own life only relative to himself and with that logic, fails to consider the various doors that are open for him. He hangs himself.
The husband slams the door behind him. She can hear him cursing and things she never thought she would ever hear. To her, words people say matter because of the meaning it brings. No one is ever truly accountable to anyone else these days. She wants to cry but tears have lost their meaning. She isn’t uneducated. But there are some things that one can’t escape without some serious repercussions. The contents of heavily dusted box she opens is still in pristine condition.
Liquor was considered but he didn’t want his body to be too relaxed. Quick and painless, that is the idea. He opts for candy. No harm in at least one of his vices in the current situation. Letter neatly arranged on a table. Loose ends well dealt with except that which can only be done at the very end. A well hand written letter, neatly folded, tucked inside an envelope closed with a wax stamp he greatly adores.
The neighbours, they hear it. They pretend like they don’t but they do. They think if they can just act like nothing has happened, maybe nothing has. There are no bruises. Never a utter of pain during their fights. It never gets physical. If it isn’t physical, they don’t have to save anyone from anything do they? That is their rationality of the situation. That is how they fall asleep at night.
An answering machine that clearly has too much a relaxing career. It only ever recorded one message. It was to pick up a package that couldn’t be delivered because he wasn’t home. Inside, the decor is not impressive. Colours were chosen specifically to maintain a theme and to invoke a sense of calm. Despite this, only a total of 2 shades are used throughout. The room is clean. Much cleaner than one could have expected.
All she wants is for him to stay, to spend some time together. They don’t do much of that anymore you see. He doesn’t understand it. Of course he doesn’t. It is never easy seeing someone you love walk into a path of self destruction without trying to do something. But nothing works, nothing ever does. She tries so hard you see, and by doing so, it makes him very angry. She is clearly afraid of him, but he clearly isn’t. They know they can be heard, but they also no everyone is too much a coward to do anything. He leaves.
Insipid. Everything to his eyes are bland. Even the things he consumes has lost its flavour. It felt almost as if the world has left him behind and gone on about it’s own business. It is never a nice feeling to experience I suppose. It wasn’t really the fact that he didn’t find meaning in life. His few former best friends know, it is much more the case of losing meaning than not finding meaning in the first place. To lose the objective in life so completely, his behaviour is nothing if not predictable.
A man and a woman was walking on a street, groceries in her hands, a book in his. Perhaps it was the lack of peripheral vision or a lack of concentration. Perhaps it was because a red bus just drove by and red buses are just not that often seen. Perhaps it is the crying baby right outside the shop or the smell of fresh baked cookies from the pastry shop. These two individuals knock into one another, neither dropping what they had in hand. Apologies were exchanged. They look so normal on the surface. So calm, so untroubled. In exactly two weeks, they will both commit suicide.
