Umberchild: He had the makings of a fine man...

He had the makings of  fine man, or so they thought until it all came to a crashing halt. For charisma, there was no match. For affability there was no equal. He was the life of the party and everyone's best friend. But who was he really? No one could say. 50 people who knew Adam Langley could be put into a room and all of them would come up with a different description of the man's personality.

"He was a charming man, always happy always smiling. Why, he hadn't a care in the world." Said one single mother who often attended his parties.

"Adam was the dark brooding type, y'know? He could be charming, but you could tell that he was thinking about the darker side of things." said one girl, barely in her twenties with a penchant for black and gothic clothing. She had met Adam Langley once at a party while stumbling drunk.

"Oh Adam, fine chap. Pity to hear about him you know," The next man to take a stab at categorizing the elusive beast know as Mr.Langley, a rather rotund man in his 40s, made a quick slashing motions across his neck. "Ending it and all.From what I remember he had a wicked biting wit, very mean kind of fellow in a good-natured kind of way." the man had met Langley while sailing in the carribean. Although half off it due to his pain meds, he remembered that day very well.

And so each said to the other what they wanted to see of the man who had lately ended his life and not a single one came close to the truth.  Adam Langley was charming, they said. Adam Langley was a rebel, they yelled! No, he wasn't, he was a sad misunderstood soul whose sensitive psyche could not handle the rough hands of the world. Or maybe he had been a mean man whose good heart hid behind biting remarks?

A small girl sat in the corner unnoticed by the swell of people. She listened to each of their declarations and simply shook her head at it all. She had been the one to go to each of their doors and tell them their dear friend Adam Langley had left this mortal coil. It was all they had needed to hear, really. Each of them then supplied the method of death and the reason for dying. Humans could be rather gruesome when given ammunition, and the death of a close friend was no exception.

"Should I tell them that he never existed?" she wondered. The lengths people would  go through to pretend they knew a person were tremendous. Why not simply admit that you had never known an Adam Langley? Or was the idea of looking anything other than right and perfect utterly terrifying? She must have thought so, because these people rather reminded her of children. Much more than she herself was.





The End

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