The Last Suicide Note Ever Written - Short Story

The Last Suicide Note Ever Written

 The first thing anyone wants to do if all the adults, and even the kids disappeared, is to raid the nearest store.

And I'll admit I was tempted to do the same.

Before it had even happened, though, I'd imagined what it would be like to live in the would without any adults, or, perhaps, completely alone.

The latter scenario was rather morbid, really. After enjoying the fun of a world turned free-for-all, it would always end with the same result. Loneliness leading to depression. Depression leading to a loss of sanity. A loss of sanity leading to the inevitable. Suicide.

Especially in a world that had become devoid of restocking shopping centers and advanced medicine, starvation and sickness are always fully plausible causes of death. But even so they can be prevented. Healed.

Loneliness cannot. Not in this situation, at least.

The companionship of an animal is vital, might even be your sanity's lifeline. But even the most antisocial of introverts needs the peace of mind that comes with the camaraderie of another human being. Someone to speak to when things get tough, to listen to when a mind needs something to think over to fend off the grim thoughts of despair that begin to penetrate and permeate the mind when boredom sets in.

But there is no animal to comfort me. Not any longer, at least. Neither do I have that person. I'm alone, all alone, with nothing but this paper that will never be read by a soul. It'll float away in a bottle at sea, wandering in its own ocean of loneliness with the same fate as mine; to eventually decay and be eaten by the fishes.

In a world where you're alone, it's like a time bomb. Though you're nervous of the future, you remain relaxed at least a little as you procrastinate the end. You have plenty of time, you believe. But before you know it, fear is setting in. It slowly yet horrifically increases, taunts you as each second counts down.

Five...

Four...

Three...

Two...

One...

Zero. A gun to the head. A bullet in the skull.

"That's awful!" One may have said if they were here to know my demise. "What a horrible way to die!"

That's what I thought too, before it happened. Those might've been my exact words when I was younger lying on my bed, daydreaming about the horrific fantasies of what the world would be like if it achieved this impossible reality.

That's what I would've thought before all of humanity left me; both the humanity made up of 7 billion people around the world, and the humanity that was deep within me that would prevent me from pulling this very trigger.

I'm alone, in this empty world frozen in time. Decaying slowly, slowly, never to be remembered. Cities will crumble, buildings demolish, nature will retake its reign over the earth. Even this very yacht I float on will sink eventually, becoming a part of the sea it had once wandered aimlessly while under my command.

I once knew where I was headed. I once had a thing that people called hope. A weak one. a frail one. And now, a broken one. As broken as me. As broken as my sanity.

I don't know how many times I've whipped around when I thought I heard someone call my name, only to be met with emptiness. I can no longer count the times I've broken into ceaseless laughter when nothing had fallen upon me. Nothing, but bad luck.

"Oh, no," I whisper, almost smiling as sweat pours down my sunburned face. My lips are cracked and dried by the salt, voice shaky and almost sounding like a laugh. Oh, no. Under the blazing sun, I feel nothing but a warm ocean breeze and the cold muzzle of my revolver pressed against my temple, shaky hands gripping the handle as though for dear life--- but then again, It's not like life means anything to me anymore. Oh, no...

My mutterings are met with silence. That's all I'd heard since they all left me, save for the incessant waves lapping gently on the sides of this desolate heap. Are they whispering to me? Encouraging me to end it? Ha... Soon, my friends. Soon I'll join you.

My bare feet stand on the edge of the boat, hot metal searing my skin. I yearn for the cool water, ready to be relieved of this pain, ready for my knees to buckle under me and drop my corpse into the salty ocean. I'll fall, fall, dragged down into the black and lifeless depths to be nibbled by the fishes.

"Oh, no no no. It's not a horrible way to die at all..."

My trembling thumb pulls the hammer, cocking the gun with a click. Why is it so shaky? Anticipation? Excitement? I can no longer tell. I lost my ability to a long time ago. But the one thing is for sure, It's certainly not my humanity.

"...It's a horrible way to live."