The Chronicles of Life. (Complete)

Celebratory death.

While his childhood friend laid on a hospital bed fighting for her life, Nathan had gone on a drive. He'd much rather been by the girl's side but certain other things needed to be done too. So just like he'd done the days before, the boy stopped by bars, taverns, and malls. He'd continued driving down the road with no specific destination before stopping by a small diner for a quick meal before going on the road again. His wife had been on his case lately about the fact that he wasn't eating enough, and so she'd wanted him to send her a picture every time he ate something. 

A bell rang when he opened the door and he'd looked up to see what was causing the loud sound, he'd hardly been surprised to see an actual bell hanging by the door. He ignored the looks he'd been receiving from the people inside as he walked right through to have a seat by the counter.

"What are your specials?" The boy had asked when the waiter asked him what he wanted to order. "We have the cheese burger with fries and a ribs meal of your choosing", the young waiter had responded pointing at the menu board behind him.

"I'll have the cheese burger thanks", Nathan said then took a moment to look at his surroundings as he waited for his food. He noticed how the place desperately needed a paint job. The booth couches barely had leather on them and the people sitting on them were just dirty, he'd guessed they didn't mind.

The place was dodge no doubt. It looked like the owners were probably smuggling drugs in the back somewhere. Or they were doing some illegal trading of some sort. Whatever it was, it smelled bad. It suddenly made sense why they'd been starring at him when he walked in. He looked clean, like he'd never taken a drug in his life. The same couldn't be said for everyone else inside.

He let his eyes linger a bit longer at a figure who'd been sitting barely conscious at the back of the odd looking diner. The person didn't look well at all and he had bruises where his skin was showing. It didn't take Nathan long to realize who the person was before he made his was over to him.

He'd almost missed him. The older boy had lost so much weight and he looked like he hadn't showered and eaten in months.

Nathan then grabbed the seemingly drunk looking boy roughly by his collar and threw him on the ground. He had no sympathy whatsoever that he'd been beat up already as he proceeded to throw punches at him. "You disgusting bastard", he'd spat out, "How do you fucking live with yourself?" He'd asked rhetorically as he continued on throwing punches and kicks.

The boy on the floor made no effort to fight back as he felt he'd deserved it. He'd deserved all of it and more for what he'd done.

Dr Michael Tesfaye wasn't perfect but he wasn't a monster either. He was perfectly human. He'd grown up with a father who would always put his hands on his mother and sister whenever he'd felt they'd been misbehaving. He'd noticed how that would then stop the two ladies from repeating the same mistake again, and so he'd taken on that behavior with his partners when he'd started dating.

The first time he'd put his hands on a woman was in high school and he'd hated it. He'd gone back home crying about it but his father had been beyond disappointed at him. He'd gotten an hour long monologue from the older man about being a man, and that had been only after he got a beating from him because he'd been a coward. His father called him a pussy and a coward for not putting his hands on a woman, and of course he'd then started doing it more often to make the man proud. And proud he was.

But never in his life had he ever imagined putting someone in a coma, let alone someone he loved with his whole heart. So when he'd noticed his fiancé had stopped breathing after he'd thrown the vase on her head, he'd immediately taken her to the hospital.

But his father was right, he was a big coward because he'd freaked out once he got there and ended up leaving the girl outside of the building. Since then, all he'd done was drink and got himself into trouble so people would beat him up.

It was like once he'd started putting his hands on women, he couldn't stop. Instead he got worse. He'd done therapy and was put on treatment after treatment for months but nothing seemed to work. Domestic violence was an act sometimes performed by the mentally ill but was only treated by being taken to prison. No one ever bothered to do research on it because once you're that person, you're just seen as a monster. so he'd eventually given up.

As he laid on the floor getting beat up by Nathan and now other people who'd also been at the diner, he'd welcomed it. He'd wished they would just end his life already as he didn't feel he deserved to still breathe when the love of his life laid in the hospital on life support.

When the other boy had started beating him up, he'd heard him shout the things he'd done. The other people in the diner must've heard because that was the only logical reason why they'd also been beating him up. He hadn't done anything to them yet.

Pictures of his face were plastered throughout the country and maybe even in other countries. He hadn't gotten arrested for what he'd done but it didn't help that people spit on him and threw junk at him whenever they'd see him. He was South Africa's worst human being.

He'd been forced to resign at work because of the negative impact the whole thing had on his work place and he soon ran out of money and had no place to live.

Michael's barely conscious body was eventually taken to the hospital after almost not making it but he'd refused to press charges. 

His father had died a few years before and his mother and sister wanted nothing to do with him so he'd stayed at the hospital for months without any visitors.

Until one day, he'd told a nurse where to get the only money he'd been left with and asked her to put poison in his drip. She'd happily done so.

He died.

He died a lonely man who was hated by the whole country and had nothing or anyone to call his own.

The world celebrated his death.