After
There are many questions Smiles cannot help to ask himself. The importance of these questions should have been of little significance to Smiles, but he silently demanded the answers all the same. Stupid questions, really. Such as, will it hurt? What if something goes wrong, and he doesn’t do it properly? After the hard part, then what? What is after?
The mouth of the noose gaped at him blankly, swaying back and forth, as if it were hypnotizing him. The thick rope was black and frayed, wisps of thread hanging loose and fluttering slightly in a non-existent breeze. The knot was strong, secure. It should do the trick, Smiles thought, finding slight comfort. The bulky coils of the cord promised a quick, sure death. That, at least, was reassuring. Yet the stool started trembling, quite violently, as Smiles stood upon it. It wobbled and shook so much that it almost toppled over, and Smiles didn’t want that just yet. Perhaps he didn’t want it all, though he really never wanted anything. Except freedom, an escape from this cave of suffering that he was trapped in.
More questions started popping into Smiles’s mind, questions that caused him to delay his death a little longer. Who would make sure Rita took her medication? Surely not his father, he was too busy. Not to mention impenetrable, cold, calculating and disapproving. He arrived at home late at night from his work, sometimes early in the morning. During the few hours he actually laid eyes on his children, he hardly ever spoke to the pair of them, save for the disparaging remarks he would spew out at his son. Yet Smiles could not bear to let the guilty thoughts of Rita penetrate his collapsing mind.
Smiles’ knees shook. The stool wobbled more ferociously. Why did he always go by the name of Smiles? He never liked the name much. His real name was Stephen. Stephen Miles. But at school, all his classmates labeled him Smiles. No one has ever seen him smile. And no one ever would. It was something he vowed long ago. If there was nothing to be glad about, if there was nothing to live for, he would not bless the damned world with his damned smile.
The opening of the rope that coiled and twisted before him, like some monstrous black snake, was a gateway. A hole into after. He gazed into it, trying to see what path lied before his feet, but his eyes only met the darkness of his bedroom, the sheer dark loneliness that was his home. The cave in which he grew up in, a cave so black and cold that it poisoned his thoughts and his soul, turning them black as well.
There was one final stream of questions that lingered. The questions sank their teeth into Smiles’s heart, causing a numbness to seep into his veins and engulf his shaking body. Why did nobody care? Why? What is wrong with me? Why didn’t anybody show that they appreciated his existence? Why was he stuck in some god damned shitty life taking care of his non-existent sister and standing in the shadow of his ever-ungrateful father? Why did nobody care? He decided against a suicide note. No one would give a shit to read it.
Hands trembling, he slipped the noose over his head, tears sliding down his pale cheeks. He took off his glasses and snapped them in two pieces, letting them fall to the floor with a soft clink. The rope was tight and the texture rough around his neck. Claustrophobia suddenly swooped down upon him. The cave was shrinking, shrinking, shrinking… He had to jump, before the walls crumpled on top of him, before he suffocated…
He prepared himself to kick the stool from under his feet. He took a deep breath, letting oxygen fill his lungs once more.
He hesitated.
A sliver of yellow light slowly started stretching across the room until it reached his face. Smiles’ eyes followed it to the door, which was just a crack open. Smiles saw one, large shining eye stare into the darkness of the room. And the door opened just a bit wider.
