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A Happy Death
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TITLE (EDIT)
A Happy Death |
DESCRIPTION
I've been reading Samuel Becket's trilogy so this is kinda my own attempt at his writing style. So simple it doesn't really deserve a description.
[1,481 words] |
AUTHOR
Kain |
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Hates to write, but does it anyway.
[January 2006] |
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (5)
A Solitary Life (Short Stories) A boy trys to discover the reason behind his friends solitude. [1,666 words]
An Ode To Laziness (Poetry) A terrible poem that celebrates my sloth. [254 words]
Sushi's Day Off (Short Stories) Really awful story I wrote about my Xenophobic cat Sushi. Supposed to have been like Ferris Buellers day off but turned into something like the Wizard of Oz, and my cat went from being a whale to jus... [1,948 words]
The Job (Short Stories) An old wrestlers last match [6,918 words]
Virgil's Inferno (Short Stories) Virgil, real life poet and fictional character in the Divine Comedy, rants abou this crappy afterlife. [2,612 words]
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A Happy Death
Kain
The rain is falling on my sores that bleed without cease drip drip. That’s my life leaving me and I cant get it back no matter how hard I try to put it back in, whether by scooping it up in my hands and furiously pouring it over my wounded left leg only to watch the cursed rain wash it off again or by letting the blood that drains from my arm fall into my open leg hoping that this cyclical process will balance itself out long enough for me to contemplate my life, which is surely almost over. O well. Not much of a lose for me or for anyone, no certainly not for anyone seeing as how I never really gave a damn about anyone. I used to care about Sherry or Sheila or what ever her damn name was, but that was a long time ago when their was still a trace of humanity left in me. No. She purged all that out didn’t she, with her belittling, drove my humanity out faster than this blood is draining (only much more painful). And then the only times I really did care for her was when we were fucking and that was more of a selfish caring, giving pleasure to her so that she could return it to me. No. I retract my previous statement about how this woman purged my humanity away because now that I think about it I never had any humanity to begin with, only this constant nothingness which leaves me invulnerable to any pain or happiness. Drip drip. Now this to is leaving me into a state of true nothingness; non existence, which must be better than this so called existence. I’m looking forward to the void, that blackness where I wouldn’t even be able to be bored of life because I wouldn’t be. Of course I could be wrong. My fellow men and women could be right about this God fellow who will scrutinize me and analyze every swear, punch, screw, piss, shrug, kick, smoke, stab, shot, lie, scream, threat, fart, cough, shit, and sigh that I have said, done, committed, and excreted in my life time. It won’t be too bad really. The pains that this life has brought upon you have corrupted the view of your holy father who will take care of you as long as you forgive your sins. Shut up you. Now, we must forget this morbid obsession with the nothingness and return to the important matter of dying, which must not be much longer for we have all ready lost quit a lot of blood. So much so in fact that the grass is turning red. Yes that is of the utmost importance. I don’t agree with your optimism to meet God, but I do think I should focus my efforts on dying. I believe I’m in the right position, lying down on the grass against this old oak tree, and if I don’t die from this blood loss, then I’m sure the wind will snap that big branch above me. Yes I will be dead regardless of were I am. My blood must attract wild animals that will tear me to shreds and there is always that threat of lightning during a storm in the grassy plains. Although I would rather not die from that. Never was one to enjoy being burned or scorched or even lightly singed. That’s why you fear God. What does this fear have to do with God? If a God exists than heaven exists, which must also mean that hell exists. You don’t like being burned. Remember those early years in school? The nuns who scared us shitless about burning to death for eternity in the fire’s of hell. How scared you were? I remember crying because Sister Roberta told me that I was going to hell because I couldn’t hold my bladder through class and pissed all over my desk. The only way you could forget about being burned was by forgetting about God, the punisher, and so you look to the bleak alternative of nothingness. Shut up. You never have left me have you. You can never leave me alone. Even now when I try to look for meaning in this life at the hour of my death, you bother me with my youthful idiocy. So you screw and fight all your life reveling in this belief of nothingness, of an afterlife devoid of fire for the sins you committed. But I have never really left you. Only got pushed back into the neglected part of your mind stuck in a room with your consciousness and your humanity who never shut the hell up. Only in this hour of you impending death has your fear in burning allowed me to return. It won’t be that bad. In fact it might not even happen. No it will. I will burn for eternity and God wouldn’t care less. He’d let me and all the others like me burn in that pit of fire and agony. This was his plan. His plan for Jenny was to have her become a doctor and heal people and sit by his right side in heaven. His plan for James was to build homes for people so that they could have happy lives and then for James to sit by his left side in heaven. And his plan for me was to have a crappy life being screwed over by men and women only to end up bleeding to death under this tree in the plains and to have a crappy after life burning for eternity in fucking hell. Once again, you only see God as a punisher. He also forgives. He can forgive your list of sins, as long as you’re truly sorry. Well I’m not sorry for any of my sins. Well, I’m sorry for some of them. I’m definitely sorry for mugging that Salvation Army man. Yes that wasn’t really necessary. For beating up that kid who took the last of the Dr. Peppers from that vending machine. That’s all really. I don’t regret stabbing the people I did because they always had it out for me first. I don’t regret those short flings I’d start with women only to make off with their money, least of all Sheila or Sherry, because they wouldn’t have done anything constructive with that money anyways. So if God can see this from my point of view then I guess I could get into heaven, but from what I hear about him, he’s a little stricter than that. No. Oblivion sounds much nicer than judgment before an omnipotent being who I can’t see eye to eye with. I’m sure he’s more understanding than that. Besides, if he does accept your forgiveness than its eternal paradise which I’m sure is a lot nicer than nothingness. Yes it must be nicer than nothingness, which honestly sounds bleak. But he won’t let me into his paradise. But isn’t it worth a try? To reach paradise? Isn’t it worth a try to be in eternal bliss rather than just to give up and accept nonexistence? Look it’s not my fault! It’s God’s fault that my life was this way! This is his plan after all. Apparently he didn’t take the time to craft my plan as he did with other people’s plans. If he didn’t take the time to make my life worth living than I don’t want to take the time to discuss my sins with him. I’ll opt for nonexistence thank you very much. Although you’re right. Paradise does sound nice. Yes, I suppose I shall try to reach it. That’s the spirit. Yes it is starting to sound nicer already. Then it’s settled I will go to my father, my eternal father and beg forgiveness. You’re sounding happier already. Yes I suppose I am happy, which is a weird feeling. I must not have felt it in a long time. Not since you pushed me away. Yes at the hour of my death I’m happier than I have been in my whole life. Which reminds me that I must get back to dying. I shall see you in the next life. I’m looking forward to it. Good bye. Bye. The rain has stopped and now the clouds are gently drifting above. The branch has not broken which is a shame because I am now very eager to leave this world. The blood has drained so much so that I can’t feel my arms or my legs anymore. Not much longer now. Just now the setting sun breaks through the grey clouds, drenching the grasslands that roll out in front of me in shades of dark red and purple. I suppose this is as good a death as I should hope for. Yes this is quite nice after all.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2006 Kain |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
January 2006 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2258
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