Beautiful Suicide
The cool breeze of the fast approaching evening brushed generously against my face as I took one last drag of the very last stick of my Marlboro. Not exactly my brand, but it was all I could find. The engines from the gas company a few yards away, worked in seamless rhythm, producing a rather weird yet beautiful mechanical melody. Children scream with joy from a distance as power is restored to the locality. The smell of freshly cut grass and damp dust from the short drizzle a few minutes earlier filled my lungs. All these would have been fucking wonderful if I wasn’t so fucking pissed, frustrated and petrified at the same time. You wonder, what the hell is wrong with this kid? Well let me paint you a picture...

I had been working for this advertising agency for five fucking years of my miserable life. I brought in the best deals; I mean I made this company some shit load of cash. I thought I was the best thing to happen to this company and in two days all this was smoke, dust and splinters all up in my fucking face. Of course you want to know how. I’ll tell you. My ugly and fat beast of a boss asked me to Bleep her this evening after work and I say no. Maybe I’m just a little bit pissed. In truth, she was quite pretty but a little over fifty. She sure was a knock out in her youth. So far, she’d managed to keep her breasts firm and still had the ass of a 21 year old... so, back to my angered state. I tell her I had a girl I wanted to marry. For the first time in my entire life, I was in love; I mean Ernest Amadasun Imuetiyan...take your mind off my name, focus on my story. I was in love and that was all that mattered to me and I was going to marry this girl. So my boss wanted to Bleep me. She thought I was insanely hot (not like I didn’t know that) and wanted to do things to me that I couldn’t spell or find in a dictionary. Very tempting but I was in love (obviously, for someone who was as upset as I was, I had mentioned that I was in love one too many times) and boy was I stupid for that. I guess I’m totally getting you confused so I’d cut to the bottom line. I say no to the sexual advances of my very hot, over fifties boss, get to work the next day and find someone else in my office. I ask what the hell was going on, trying not to believe my ill luck. Well my good friend, I was fired. All the yelling and cursing couldn’t get me my job back. Then it hit me... My boss did mention that she hoped I was willing to risk everything for the beauty I was in love with. I foolishly said yes. What made me think I could get comfortable talking about shit like that with my boss, even if she wanted to Bleep me? Now I wish I had bleeped the screws out of her structure.

Devastated, I take a ridiculously long walk home, all the while thinking of how I was going to break the news to Stephanie (by the way, the girl I was in love with was Stephanie). So I’m walking towards my house, weighing my options and trying to figure out the next step from here. Just outside my house is my Brother Patrick’s car. I’m a little bit relieved. At least I get to talk to someone first before I tell Stephanie, nothing better than family at this moment. I let myself in pretending all is fine. Call out to Stephanie...; “baby, I’m home”... I get no answer. I walk into the kitchen to get me a drink first. I see Patrick’s necked upper body by the sink and I’m thinking; “is he fixing the pipes again? ... or is he...” Holy mother of God, what the Bleep is Stephanie doing naked with my brother. Yep! Patrick was grinding my girl from behind... You know how you see stuff and your mind starts making excuses in disbelief of the scenario? More like you see it but you simply don’t want to believe it. I fucking didn’t want to fucking believe what my fucking eyes was fucking seeing, but my fucking ears kept picking up their fucking moans.

They didn’t even hear me come in or see me at all. Plus she never ever moaned in agreement to me the way she did with him. Bleep... My head went heavy and my stomach light. I could feel blood rushing to my head. I felt like stabbing myself in the eye with a cork screw, jumping off a sky scraper, slicing my throat on the way down, landing on helicopter blades and make sure my pieces fall into a volcano. Now even that was too creative a death for a just fired creative director. I took a good scope of the kitchen and thought of creative ways to kill them but everything I came up with just seemed to be a cliché. Look at her, the bitch of a devil. For Pete sakes I just got fired for being faithful, I thought we had a good thing going here? Then it occurred to me that Patrick, the brother I couldn’t stand and couldn’t stand me had all of a sudden become so nice and loving. I mean the Patrick that wouldn’t even come to see me in the hospital when I had that crash in ‘97 despite the fact that we just left the family house after a fight, now comes by occasionally to help Stephanie do the plumbing. I was beginning to think it was a fresh start but I see how far up his pipes go.

I so wanted to say something, but how in freaking hell do you start that? Words escaped me, I was almost swallowing my tongue (and all this fucking time, they hadn’t seen me), then he gave me an opening;”Steph baby, let’s do the 96”. What an idiot, he couldn’t even get that one right. At least that was the one thing he didn’t get right and did he just call her baby? So I finally say something;” its 69 you fucking idiot and honey that’s a stunning tail and amazing pair of horns you have there. Oh! Patrick before I forget, could you please pass me the knife there so I could redecorate my kitchen with your gut?” Not exactly the way I planned to start the conversation but guess what? They finally get to see me!!! Now she’s panicking or pretending to, which ever. Then she goes ahead to say the most stupid thing ever; “Oh my god...” (Hugh?) “Oh my god what?! Oh my god Patrick you Bleep real good or Oh my god the fiancé I’m getting married to in two weeks just caught me fucking his brother. Plus you know what? Don’t bring God into this cuz I’m pretty sure he can’t bare the sight of you right now, just like I want to pluck my eyes out for looking at you right fucking now!!!” The room goes silent, Patrick tries to speak but I tell him to drop dead. “You know what? You guys have fun, I’ll just go hang myself somewhere” I walk out of the kitchen and out onto the front yard and for whatever reason, I yell from there “by the way, I just got fired today FOR NOT FUCKING MY BOSS!!!” Stephanie let out a loud cry from the kitchen but I was too busy planning my suicide to even care.

It was off to my parents’ house, the perfect venue for disaster. Yeah I said it. I love my parents but they are the perfect set of idiots. Well what can I say, they’re my favorite idiots. I stop at a shop a few blocks from their house to buy some smoke and a couple of drinks. Like things couldn’t get any worse, they didn’t have the St Moritz I wanted, so I go for a second option like I always do. Just as I turn to leave, I hear someone call out to me. It was Amanda, my high school crush. “What’s with all that booze and smoke? Solo party?” I let out a sarcastic laugh. She walks up to me and says; “Earnest Amadasun Imuetiyan”. “That’s it? You walk up to me just to call my full name?” (So I’m an ass, who isn’t?) She looks straight into my eyes and gives me that broad, charming and disempowering smile and without warning, (like she could see everything I was going through) gives me a very warm hug then whispers in my ear, “Whatever it is, it’s not the end of the world...” she slips a card into my pocket. “Call me sometime, we need to talk about that crush you had on me in high school” then she walks off. Speak of bad timing. What in good heavens is wrong with this brood? I ignore her and head for my demented folks.
“Ernest darling, we’re so sorry”, it was my mom at the door waiting for me to enter. My father like the puss he’d always been just nodded in agreement. “Good afternoon to you too mom”. I walk past them into the living room. “Where the Bleep is he?” My mum in reflex just snapped “mind your language boy” I give her a cold look that said I could go bananas on you right now if you push it. I guess my rage just sipped cold fear into her because she immediately shrunk back moving closer to my father (like he could do anything to save her if there was any danger).”He’s not here... he called... I’m sure there’s an explanation for this...” (Somebody stop me before I bust a cap in my gay of a father’s head). “There’s an explanation for fucking my fiancé in my house... my kitchen... my fucking kitchen... the same place she prepares my meals. Don’t even get me started”. “Honey he’s so sorry, that’s why he called, asking us to help him beg you...” (Now I’m convinced my mother is a witch) “He’ll be here pretty soon. “Great, I can kill him with your blessing then”. My father walks up to me with both arms stretched as if to touch my shoulders. “Don’t fucking touch me” You all are just fucking insane” My father heaves a big sigh, rolling his head backwards in frustration. (He’s frustrated...old poop).

There’s cold silence in the room. Nobody really had anything to say. Talking wasn’t quite helping. I walk away from them towards the couch, sinking in; I stretch my legs onto the table then light a smoke. My mother flips out again but almost swallows her tongue as I shoved my brand new revolver onto the table. “Honey...Sweetie...what’s that on the table? My dumb Bleep of a father had to answer... “It’s a damn gun Martha”. “Of course I know it’s a gun you shit head...” My mum cursed him the Bleep out while I just sat there, secretly finding pleasure in their argument. I pick up the gun, thinking out loud as I tried to figure out the best way to put myself out of my misery. I rub the revolver against my face like a housewife trying out a new detergent on her favorite fabric. You know those shitty commercials? Anyway, I put the revolver on my head, almost not noticing my petrified parents staring at their biggest horror... “Maybe I should blow my brains out the old fashioned way or my eyes for what they’d just seen... Just at that moment, my Brother steps in. Blood rushed to my eyes, I was filled with unbelievable rage but yet I was as calm as silence... “or maybe I should shoot you where you stand” I hear my mother whimpering like a Chihuahua, my father jumps in front of the gun stretching his hands towards me with tears forming around his eyes he yells out; “ I’m not losing a child today, not now not EVER!!!”... Wow!! It takes the loss of my job and the fucking of my fiancé by my brother to have my parents act a bit normal. Look at him, being a man for the first time, defending his own. I take the gun away from my pale brother and the map forming around his pants. I fall into the chair, wondering if he would have done the same for me. Tears rushed down my eyes uncontrollably. The room went silent again.

The silence continued, apart from the annoying whimpers my mom gave off (Now I don’t know why I said this but it sure did spin my day in a different roller coaster direction) I whispered under my tears “whose child I’m I anyway?” To my biggest shock, my mother just cried out in agony; “Oh my god he knows” It was like her worse fear had just become a glooming reality... Funny... We both shared the same fear.

The horrible silence hunted me. For the first time in hours I actually needed somebody to say something. What the Bleep is going on? My mind began to put the displaced puzzle pieces of my entire life together despite my useless effort to remain blank at the time. I look at my mother but she looks to the ground. I look at my father and he's the sorriest person on the planet. As for my brother? I did not dare look upon the filth. I still had my mind wrapped around killing him, just couldn't figure out how best to do that. I swallowed heavily summoning all the courage I could to ask the very obvious and madly insane question that now recently beyond my will, taunted my mind. “he knows what?”. “honey please know that we love you more than-... “Mother? I asked a question and I expect answers. Not empty ramblings of schizophrenic love and affection”. With that, I slam both my palms on the table, sending everything on it flying across the room in different directions. She drops on the couch across me in exhaustion. My father still stood defensively by Patrick. Almost in a whisper, she finally spoke; “alright, I’ll tell you”. Years ago, your father and I took a trip to Lome’. After a night at the club, we were heading back to our hotel when we were attacked by unknown men... (She cries heavily) I was raped and nine months later, I had you. I and your father haven’t had the courage to do a test... Honey, this doesn’t change anything. We still love you”...

I sat there petrified. Every voice in the room immediately turned into distant echoes. I could not believe what I had just heard. I thought I was ready for this but I so wasn’t. My face went pale; I felt a sharp pain in my heart. It was too much for one day. I could hear voices in my head screaming. My mother wailed while my emotionally drained father sank slowly to take refuge on the ground. I felt every emotion imaginable all at once. I got up slowly struggling to manage my weight but determined to end this disaster I call a life. Heavy with the weight of booze and emotional distress, I staggered through the hallway straight to the spiral steps that led to the roof top. Within minutes, I was on the roof. I sat there with my legs dangling from the edge replaying the last few hours of my life. I couldn’t believe what I was going through. Was I the only one or is the rest of the world like this?

So you understand my frustration. There really is no happy ever after. Curse me all you want but I’ll say it. The search for a happy ever after is just a fruitless attempt to empty the endless ocean of logic with a thimble. Who ever came up with that phrase should be raped by wild baboons from Congo. Look at me, sitting here drowning myself with booze, celebrating my end while the rest of the world dangles happily in the dangerous balance of misery and a lingering death. It’s the same circle. Born happy, die miserable. Even in my pain I still try to savor the lush of my final moments. I had made up my mind. Jumping off the three story building head first was my goal. I drink to the last drop, wishing I had more to drink. My vision was blurry. It was time to do the deed. I sway unsteadily, trying to get to my feet when my eyes catch a glimpse of what seemed to be Amanda on a billboard. I squint, trying hard to make out what it was. It was a Victoria Secret advert. I couldn’t believe it. The Amanda that I had a crush on and had just given me that unbelievable warm hug was a Victoria Secret model. Maybe this life isn’t such a bad place after all.

All of a sudden, everything that was good in my life began to surface in my mind. How come all these things didn’t come up earlier. Amanda... my guardian angel. She literally saved my life. I stagger to my feet. I was going to make for a new start. Bleep Stephanie and everything that didn’t work in my life. I’m going to make it work. I turn around and guess what? I slip and fall. How could I have been so dumb to come up here in the first place? This right here is the fucking most stupidest thing I have ever done in my fucking life. What a way to die...