Death Doth Make Us Part

This is the story of two friends, a girl (Suzy) and a boy (Hope), whose sexual orientation is.. umm.. different. It is about how they find each other and like each other. Finally, the guy commits suicide. What follows forms the rest of the story and I am not quite sure about it. LOL.

I had actually written my first chapter on my blog. Now shifting it here..
And one important note: Please it is not a sex story so do not make it sleazy.


“It is Tuesday, 3:00 AM. I have turned out the light bulb so that momma thinks I have gone to sleep, but sleep I cannot. So I have turned on my table lamp. Every night it is the same thing. I turn out the light and lie in bed waiting for sleep to visit my eyes and take over my body. I lie in wait, longing to leave reality and enter the world of dreams where I can prance about with deer  and monkeys and let go of the worries of this life. But it never does happen. My eyes are still waiting when the sun rises snuffing out the hope that lightens up in my heart in the darkness of night.

“Hmmm the paper is smooth, neat and crease-free. I do not like it. I do not like the fact that something as trivial as paper should be enjoying such a high class of orderliness while my life just keeps getting messier and going out of control. I want the paper to get a taste of my life. I want to crumple it up, tear it into pieces and then scatter it all over the place. Wait.. I will crumple it up now!!

“Yeah.. that is better. Much better. Now the paper is fine in its crumpled and heavily creased state. It reflects me and my life and my thoughts and my feelings - all messed up. 

“Right from the moment I realised that I have the ability of keeping memories, I do not have a single happy one. Everything seemed to go downhill. Do not expect me to descrbe the details here. I wish to die a respectable death even if it is self inflicted. Everytime it looked like there was something good just out of my reach such that I could touch it by just stretching out my hand, it was pulled away out of my fingers leaving my knuckles bruised.  Everytime I tried so hard to please myself, I failed miserably. But no matter what, I tried regardless.

“But there exists a limit to patience and tolerance. I tried so much that I exhausted myself. Nights stopped being restful to me and when I did have that miracle called sleep it was always accompanied with my nightmares. They were not nightmares in the real sense of th word, but nevertheless they were nightmares to me. This brought me to a point where I no longer could make out the line that divided dreams and reality or more precisely, my nightmare and my reality. Both blended into one. What was my nightmare, was also my reality, and my reality was also my nightmare.

“I got tired of visitors and phone calls. Meeting and talking to people became a pain. Now I panic whenever the doorbell or telephone ring. I do not attend to them if I can help it.

“Oh what the… My cell phone is ringing. Who could it be at this ungodly hour??? Hmm… it is my best friend. I cannot speak to him now because talking to anyone I love will only weaken my resolve. So I have switched it off.

“I am tired of the usual sleepless nights. So I have decided I will make this night different than the others. I will sleep tonight. If sleep refuses to arrive in my eyes, I can force it. This night will bring me rest. I am tired of living like Sisyphus, ceaselessly pushing my rock to the top of the mountain and watching it fall back down again. 

“Well if there is someone who might have an inkling of why I am going to sleep, it would be my best friend. There is none who knows that when I smile I am mocking myself. But he might have a clue. Although not many people know that he is my friend. He knows my secret that no one knows, but no one knows him either.

“Hmm the blade is beside the paper, the edge glinting in the light from the table lamp. I had heard that most people get drunk before doing it. I don’t think I need to do so. I am immune to physical pain. Come on, without further delay, let me do it.

“Ouch that hurt.. that was the left wrist. Now the right…. Hmm this didn’t hurt as much as the left did. Interesting. Oh the blood has started dripping on the paper making it messier. That is much better. I will move to my bed now. Will have to write using my cell phone light. 

“The bedspread is white. The scarlet stains are of my blood. It looks like a classic suicide scene from a movie. My handwriting is getting crazier as I can feel my fingers growing number and number. My head is buzzing. I can feel sleep coming on reluctantly. My head is aching horribly now. But I need to write.

“Momma would be devastated. But I have to sleep. I can never be what she wants me to be. Her crazy plans for my future are far far away from my reality (or my nightmare). If I stay awake, it would be devastating for both of us. 

“I had heard that people who put themselves to sleep will not be sent to heaven. Well i probably will not have heaven. But my life is hell anyway.

“Oh… I can feel sleep tugging at my eyelids now. I had forgotten how it felt to be sleepy. I am sleepy now.. very. The blood is still gushing out.  I am very happy. I am going to sleep. I am going to have bliss and peace and sleep. Finally. Goodnight and goodbye.” 

The End

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