Beyond The Mystery Of Death

Chapter Three: One Last Drink

It was 9 o'clock at night, I woke up on my shitty-back hurting bed with a bottle of booze

in my hand, as I stare up at my ceiling fan watching slowly twirls around me, it gets my

thoughts going for some reason, 'but what a piece of a crap machine it is' I thought to

myself. I woke up on the sound of Chicago's rough wind rambling through my scrappy

old windows in my room. Those ugly sounds terrify me but it also makes me feel like

there's something out there is calling me that needs my attention somehow, but I guess

I'm too lazy to care anyway. I woke up, not remembering what I've done earlier today, I

only know it wasn't an easy day at the hospital for me, explaining the alcohol I chucked

down to forget what happened. My name is Marrison, and I woke up today thinking

about ending my life...I can't know why, or how, but I only feel like it's the right thing to

do.

It was this mix of strange feelings and thoughts that got to me, made me feel like this,

for me the strangest feeling someone can feel is something that is beyond what he can

express or describe but knows exactly how it feels like. And my suicidal thoughts were

triggered by something that happened to me, bad news I heard, or maybe it's all because

of my sadness and broken feeling towards life, I guess I'll never know...So I drank more

alcohol and stayed seated on the edge of my bed figuring the hell out what to do next. As

I get these poisons stuff inside my veins, my phone's alarm starts buzzing, reminding me

of the arrival of my wife and kid's plane here at midnight, and that I should pick them up

at the airport. I haven't seen my wife and kid for over 6 months, after getting in a huge

fight with my wife and refusing to go with her to consulting, she decided to take the kid

and go stay with her parents over in Dallas. 'I should learn how to manage my anger, I'm

being abusive' that were her words to me before leaving, but I can't seem to know things

about me and don't even know where to being, so I decided to let her go and let it off, maybe I was abusive to her, I just didn't know it...And even if I did, I wouldn't change a

thing about myself. So I thought to myself that today would be a bad day to end my life

when my lovely wife and 8-year-old daughter are coming back home after a time of

deeply depressing loneliness. But something in me couldn't find the urge of ending my

life, something inside of me tells me that I deserve it...What do we deserve really in this

life? In my case, should I deserve the happiness of seeing my wife and kid aging and

rebuilding my family? Or do I deserve to give my life away just to satisfy my inner

thoughts and persevered feelings?

I get myself off the bed with a hard struggle like my body's telling me no, I fight this