Heaven's End

Prologue

Suicide. If you look at it, say it, it still doesn’t feel natural, almost alien, a misfit of a word. The coldness of it sends shivers down your spine.

It’s been three months now since...it...happened. Now the word suicide seems kinder, loving, and natural. It echoes out into your soul, trying to call you to a warm embrace. The word continues to intertwine with my thoughts as I play with the pill in my scarred hand, allowing the smooth shell to give me a brief sense of comfort. The slight wave-like sound of the liquid hitting the walls of the bright orange capsule fills my hearing, making all other noises mute.

My bloodshot eyes finally remove themselves from the pill and scan the room I sit in. Three months ago I would have been greeted with silk-like, blue walls that marked the boundaries of my bedroom. The crisp coat of paint brightens up the room, pulsing out a feeling of life to all those who dwell within. The carpet was soft; a few cola stains were plotted randomly on the grass-green floor. My eyes would have seen a bed, my bed, in the corner, smothered by a wrinkled blanket that stretched across the surface of the mattress.

To fill in the little empty space, there would be a few random items on the floor, ranging from clothes, to video games, to useless junk I had forgotten the purpose of. It looked more like a scrap yard than a bedroom. Every time my mum entered, she would give me a stare that swept through me, a clear threat of torture if I avoided the task, but we both knew how hollow this threat was, as her eyes would once again turn soft after the room showed slight improvement.

My dad, however, wasn’t interested in my room at all, as his main focus always fell to the kitchen. His wrinkled hands worked with lightning speed, becoming a blur as he diced various vegetables and placed them carefully in the pan. It was his dream to take on the world’s greatest chefs and walk out victorious.

I smile as the memories flood back, my eyes gaining a new glint of life in them...but soon the memories evaporate, the glint dies.

The walls of my room transform into the cracked, dull walls of the cafe. The carpet changes into the cold-stone floor, replacing the cola stains with splashes of dry blood. The clothes and video games morph back to tissues and needles.

My mum is replaced by a worn down waitress, whose eyes have sunken into her head. She wears a slightly torn work dress that has lost all whiteness, and has become beige. Her face shows no emotion as she cleans the tables, moving without purpose.

My father becomes the owner behind the bar who shows little skill of being able to cook. He half-heartedly cuts up the meat, sneezing before chucking it into the frying pan, boiled water splashing out and scolding his left arm, with the result of him scolding the heavens.

I look around the room once more, knowing this is the place I’ll never walk out of. My face is lit up by the neon sign in the window. Although it is reversed, I can still read what is says: Heaven’s End cafe. I manage a weak laugh knowing that this run-down, drug-ridden suburb is closer to hell.

But, when I digest the situation I’m in, the name is fitting. It is the place where my heaven ended. I was here when it happened; I was here when I was told. And here I will die.

A single tear rolls down my face; I know the time is right. The bead of water falls into my mouth, the taste of salt grapples with my tongue. I raise the pill to my mouth, savouring the last few seconds of my life. My breathing slows as the capsule is placed between my teeth. The fluid inside escapes down my throat and I wait for the sweet nectar to silence my pain. I close my eyes for the last time, and I smile.

As I feel my body shut down, I can only think of my family; the good days, the bad days. Soon, we will be together again.

All sounds muffle out. I stare out into the eternal darkness, only a small glow piercing the growing shadows.

In the lifeless void, the glow sharpens out, becoming words. As my last breath leaves my body, I read the sign one more time: Heaven’s End. It could not be more correct.

If only it ended there. If only life was kind to me again just this once.

If only a death, like in many stories, was the end.

Here it’s the beginning.