Dare

Chapter 1 - Three

WARNING : There will be mentions and descriptions of  depression, drugs and suicide.

The d day was premeditated. I thought of it down to the smallest detail. However, I was unsure exactly when I would set the plan into action. And then, I arose one morning, more disheartened and wearier than ever. More disgusted. Emptier. And worse than emptiness, there was nothingness. Thus, I awakened that day with warm tears flooding my still-drowsy eyes. Death was evident upon my visage; I was listless, and it took a Herculean effort to extricate my frame from the bed. I would have preferred to already be dead, not having to struggle to open those eyes, which I so dearly wished to keep closed. I tirelessly sought meaning in my life, but there was none, or I could no longer see it. My life and my woes weighed far too heavily upon me. A single thought pervaded my mind: to end it all.
Yes, I longed to vanish from this world, to disintegrate, to push up daisies, to depart feet first, to snuff out the light – in short, to die. Death and I shared a lengthy love affair. We had forged a particularly strong bond for quite some time. We often flirted when despair overcame me. We had met on several occasions. She obsessed me. She had an answer to everything. She awaited me. Resisting my dark thoughts had become a futile struggle. Why does smiling hurt considerably? Can no one see it? I wondered. I was beset by an overwhelming sickness of existence, like the torment one endures from the throes of seasickness, and my frigate was sinking into dark waters. Would I ever resurface, breathe deeply once more, admire the rising sun, hear the birds sing, or watch my son grow up?

My son, Ange... He gazed at me with his large blue eyes and his unyielding smile. I took him into my arms and held him tightly against my chest. Then, my nose found solace in his silky, curly hair, absorbing the faint scent of orange blossom. I looked deeply into his eyes. How could a failure like myself have created such a marvel of nature? his arrival into the world granted me some respite; it was the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me. But gradually,
I relapsed. I no longer had the strength to fight. Silence and solitude gnawed at my very bones. That morning, after downing a freeze-dried coffee of dreadful bitterness and preparing my son's belongings, I entrusted the little one to my parents, with whom he was to spend a few days so I could rest. When they arrived, I wore the finest mask I owned, concealing my macabre plan. This accursed mask, thanks to which no one suspected that deep within, I was shattered into a thousand fragments, and living had become a cruel punishment.
Ange, settled comfortably in the car, waved to me through the window, and I watched him recede in the distance. My parents adored him. There had been a failure between us, but I had no doubt that he would find everything he needed with them.

Mechanically, I walked to the nearest bus stop and boarded the first vehicle departing for the train station. This day would be the last. I contemplated the passing landscapes with emotion, absorbing each as if to bid them farewell. Arriving at Cergy-Préfecture* station, I briefly stopped at a pharmacy, producing a prescription that had lain dormant in my wallet for a few days. Once I collected my due, I boarded the 4:11 pm RER A train towards Paris Nation.
It was a Thursday in April. After aimlessly wandering through the capital, I finally presented myself at the reception of a hotel in the twentieth arrondissement, "L'Oiseau Bleu"**. I was quite taken with the name of this place. With a stern face, avoiding eye contact with my host, I stammered these few words:

— Hello. Do you have a room available, please? For three nights. (Three nights should be enough...)

— Certainly. Single or double?

— Uh, single will be just fine, thank you. I'm here to work; I need some solitude. How much is it per night, please?

— Seventy euros, miss.

— Alright, that's perfect. If possible, I'd like not to be disturbed by the housekeepers during my stay. (The last thing I need is someone trying to save me...)