Poems and Other Stuff {including plot bunnies}

Joe Michaels

Life~

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Names and certain aspects have been changed in respect for this family.

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I remember the kid that lived down the street; he was a rather short boy who got held back for one year. He was in kindergarten with me. I really don't remember his name, but I think it was David. He was an only child, nice boy. He lived with his mother Anne, and father Joe. I remember that right after kindergarten he moved away, to Oklahoma I think. But I'm not positive. I was very shocked today when I heard the news, the news about this boy I use to know. The boy who went to kindergarten with me and was an only child. The nice boy. David.

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Late autumn, early winter 2007. The leaves had just disappeared off the trees; the dull dark sky was above it threatened the nice and cool day. A man, about 40, walked through the woods. His eyes on the ground, his steps slow and smooth. He wore a black sweatshirt and jeans, normal fall attire. He looked up as he got deeper into the forest. His eyes looked grave and unknown. What has happened to this man? What has happened to make like this?

He began to slow his pace as we came closer to a large stump in a small clearing. He stood in front of it, letting out a sigh. He seemed afraid, jumpy, unsure. He took a large gulp and with that he took out his hand from his sweatshirt pocket revealing a 9mm glock handgun. His hand trembled a bit, but after a few seconds he steadied it out. He looked at the gun, thinking of his past. He slowly brought the gun up to his head.

"To Anne." He whispered as he thought about his beautiful wife. Her golden blonde hair, dazzling blue eyes, amazing personality. He remembered about their wedding day. It flashed before him. He closed his eyes for a second thinking of his wife as the wind let out a steady blow. Off in the distance the sound of bird chirping came alive.

"To David." He whispered as he thought about his son. His son who was only 14, his boy who was sweet, short, kind, a wonderful kid. He was going to miss his son, his wife, his family. Before he could think of anymore sweet gentle thoughts, that might turn him from his past the sadness, anger, hatred crept back into his mind. Depression, it haunted him. The shadows, the hate it followed him like his shadow.

"I love you both." He whispered as the wind let out a large gust. Small tears flowed down his face. The forest turned silent, nothing moved, nothing. Everything for one second seemed peaceful.

~~~

Off in a house nearly a 5 minute walk away was a mother and son. The mother, Anne, stood over the stove cooking up dinner and waiting for her husband to return from his walk. While the son, David, was sitting at the kitchen table quietly doing his homework. The house was so quiet without their father. Anne didn't like that Joe, her husband, was taking so long on his walk. He still needed to take his medication, for his depression. She kept it bottled up though, not wanting to make him sad but intruding on his alone time.

"Hey mom, what is......" David began to talk as he looked up from his math book to his mother. She had moved from the stove. She now stood in front of their large window, looking out into the forest. David decided it was best not to ask her. He went back to his problems as his mother stood quietly. The house again became silent. Anne bit her lip as she walked back to the stove. She went back to the eggs she was cooking, but she couldn't help but keep glancing at the window out onto the forest.

Minutes passed, but only the leaves moved outside.

"David, can you do me a favor and go check on your father?" Anne asked as she whisked the eggs again. Their sizzling sound filled the air. David rolled his eyes as he let out a groan. He jumped out of his chair grabbing his coat which was dragged on his chair behind him. He quickly got on his coat and went out the back door into the chilling air. David took off into the forest, searching for his father.

"Dad!" David yelled as he hugged himself. He looked around, not seeing his father anywhere. His father wasn't the type of person to just run off. David was a little confused why his father wasn't answering him. He kept walking, as the sky slowly began to get darker. David walked farther and farther, wondering why his father had gone out this far in the woods. It seemed really odd.

Suddenly David came upon a small clearing, he squinted looking about. He could see something in the distance, was it? It was his father; he was on the ground next to a large stump. David sighed. His father would sometime just fall asleep anywhere. He kept wondering why he had worried, his father was fine. David began to walk towards his father, he watched him and smiled. He would just have to wake up his father and then he could head back to the nice and warm house. As he kept on watching his father, he noticed something really weird. David began to run towards his father.

"Dad!?! Dad!?!" David screamed as he ran towards his dead. The closer he got the more noticeable it got. His father was still, unmoving at all. He just kept running, then he was right there standing over his dad. He stopped, in a dead stand still, looking down at his father. His father was laying on his back, staring up at the sky, his eyes wide open, his chest unmoving, blood filling his mouth, a pool of blood around him, a small little handgun laid only inches from his face.



"Dad! No Dad! No Dad No no no no Dad!" He screamed this as he looked down at his father, he was unable to grasp this. Unable to think was his father, his dear father, would do this. Why? Why had he done this? David's eyes began to fill with tears. He couldn't look at his father any longer. He turned around and headed towards the house, towards his mother. His mother who would soon grieve for her husband. Joe Michaels.

~~~

Later that day, they found a suicide note. It was in the last place Joe had been that day. On his side of the bed, sitting on the nightstand. The mother and son grieved for Joe, who had been consumed with Depression.

I remember David, he was a dear boy. I wish his father the best wherever he is. Be happy for what you have, be happy that don't/didn't have to go through what David had. He, a 14 year old boy, had found his father dead in the woods. Be thankful for what you have been given.

This is a true story.



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I decided that I should tell this story too.

This story is true, though the names have been changed in respect.

Everytime I hear this story, I think about so much.

~Emilie