EXERCISE When is Suicide the Best Thing That Could Happen?

Discussion in 'REFINING WRITING' started by VerbalAbuse, Dec 14, 2013.

  1. Here's a quick, open-ended writing prompt - Write about a character whose past, present, and future are so terrible, that a worser fate is not so bad at all.

    Write a story about someone whose death is the best thing that could happen to them, and the details of their struggle, times they've been stopped, and their final success.
     
  2. Thomas Fletcher; a once kind man, now gone from the world.

    Fate had never been kind to Fletcher. as a child, he had faced horrendous abuse from his father. Everyday after school, his father would beat him bloody, and send him across the street to a perverted old man to watch. Stuck alone with this man, he faced sexual trauma day after day until the older man passed away, and forced his father to watch him. His mother was working day and night; she had no idea what the real reason that poor Fletcher had all these cuts and bruises; just a theory. He was a small boy; and not all that attractive with his fat freckled face with that hideous bright red hair that was never combed out. He'd never had a haircut; his older sister had been given priority. In fact, his mother had told him that she didn't plan him at all. They were just your everyday 'christen folk' who thought that it was morally wrong to give an unwanted child to the foster care system.

    Since their neighbor was no longer a viable source to watch young Fletcher, his father took to locking him away in the basement. Often times he'd forget the poor child until daybreak, where he'd let him out to go to school. Fletcher was too scared to take showers or baths in the house; his father liked to play these sick games where he'd try to drown him, so he was bullied heavily by the kids at school. Having no friends, Fletcher learned to stay out of their reach during recess by climbing trees. at one point, however, the group of bullies found where he'd been hiding. Throwing rocks at him, one struck him in the head and he fell. Unfortunately, the fall cost him much more than a spoiled hiding place; it spoiled his legs. When he landed, he had hit the ground at such a force that his back gave way, and he lost feeling from the waist down.

    Now his mother had started spending more time at home because of her son's injuries, but that didn't make his life any better. Four years after the accident, a fourteen year old miserable Fletcher tried to take his life taking his mother's anti-anxiety pills. Being rushed to the hospital, they pumped his stomach and saved his life. While in the hospital, the doctors asked him why a fourteen year old talented boy would want to end his life. "My parents down want me, my father left us to prove that. Said he wouldn't have a cripple for a son. Mother blames me for having to move to a two bedroom house, and struck by poverty. Says I'm too stupid for school, so I get to stay home and watch these boring television programs." His answer shocked the doctors, but the state said that there was nothing they could do. He was ordered to see a therapist, but on his appointments, he ditched to get coffee.

    There he met this girl named Jamie Foyete, a beautiful sixteen year old girl with black hair and blue eyes. She served him coffee for free every time he came in, and the two really started to get along. About a year later, Fletcher was in love with his fiance. They planned to elope because their parents didn't approve of the relationship. But she had given meaning back into his broken life, and he had given her a joy that she had never experienced before.

    On the night of their escape however, wearing that black dress, the car never saw her. They had been drunk, and she hadn't been paying attention. Upon contact, she was killed. The next morning, her body was found outside Fletcher's house, where she'd been thrown and left to rot. News spread around that small town, and it was rumoured that Fletcher had done the dastardly deed himself.

    Police came to his house and arrested him, and after the court ruled him guilty, they sentenced him to hang. But it was later found out that the jury had been bribed to deliver that verdict; by both Fletcher's mother, and Fletcher himself. You see, Jamie had been the only person in his life to ever make him happy. To make him love, and see that there was hope in this terrible world. But after he was named the murderer of Jamie, this small town would soon grow to hate everything he stood for. Hated by the family, now hated by the town, and ultimately, hated by himself, Fletcher never had a chance.

    Death would have been kinder to him, so, it was delivered on a July day in his cell...he had fashioned a knife and slit his own wrists.


    A week later it was announced that he would be buried next to the woman he loved.
     
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  3. Lavender Kasey. She never knew the truth...

    When she was born, Lavender was an albino, white haired and red eyed, pale skin, sunburned easily. She was sick, a lot. When she started school, kids made fun of her every day. She was bullied to no end, pushed around, one time she was kicked repeatedly by an older student until she passed out due to the loss of blood. Her parents didn't understand. They where too sweet, constantly babying her. Her father walked her to the bus stop every day, and picked her up from school every day, even once she reached high-school. Her mother always called her 'Lay Lay' and would feed her. She started to pull herself away from her parents. They didn't see the bullying. She started skipping school when the bullies started threatening her parents. At age 15, a few seniors from school shot her mother 16 times, right in front of Lavender. Of course, these students where arrested, but her father began to get...upset. He started ignoring her, not feeding her, locking her in her room. He would yell foul things at her in a drunken rage. In the middle of the night, he would storm in and scream at her. She gave up hope...until she met this guy at school. Instantly, she had a crush on him. They became friends, and he gave off hints that he liked her too. That's when life flipped. Her father was in a car accident, driving drunk. He died, but she was sewed by the other driver. $500,000 in accident repair. She didn't have a job, and she could barely feed herself, let alone pay the money. The next day, she told her friend about it. He backed away, snickering, saying that it was kind of funny. It broke her heart. He was just like the rest. She ran away from her home. She had nothing left. She had a broken heart, two dead parents, the police where searching for her, and she was lost, without food and shelter. She lasted about a month on simple things she could find in a nearby national park to eat. Winter started to roll in and she couldn't stay warm. She just, gave up. She laid outside, staring at the snow falling down on her. "Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we ll fall down." she sung over, and over until her voice gave up, her body numb, her lips purple, her skin white, her eyes frozen on the sky. She was dead. Her body was found two weeks later, frozen, molding from the wet cold. She had a bad case of frostbite, that, if she had still been alive, would have killed her anyway. She was buried in a different state as an unknown body in an unmarked grave. No one missed her, except for her neighbor. He had been the only child who had not bullied her, but he wasn't her friend either. He had followed her around school. He was the one who had gotten a teacher when she had been beaten to unconsciousness. He was the one who had called the police when her mother was shot. He was the one who had beaten up the guy who broke her heart. He was the one who had searched for her the moment she disappeared...and he was the one who visited her grave every single day until he died. He loved her, and she never knew...
     
  4. Kyle Gotun, a teen who seemed okay. Until that day.

    Kyle always was a very good kid, is what his parents thought. He'd always get his homework done, he was spoiled at home and they thought his school was wonderful. But he didn't Not just like anykid hates school, Kyle didn't mind. He'd always get to see his friends. He'd even met a girl and they'd fallen in love, much deeper than most teenagers. He found out that her father was always drunk, and always said mean things to her, but never did anything because her mom was around. Then her mom just, disappeared. Her father started drinking even more, and would beat her. One day Kyle got fed up with his girlfriends always having a new set of bruses from her father, so he forged a note from his parents so he could get a bus pass to go to his girlfriends house. Upon seeing Kyle however, her dad atcually pulled out a gun, shot both Kyle and his girlfriend, then killed himself.
    Waking up in the hospital, he found that he had been lucky to survive the shot. Unfortunatly, his girlfriend hadn't survived. Falling deep into depression, he began to cut, and when his remaining friends noticed this, they tried to help him, but he pushed them away. He still lied to his parents, and hid his cuts beneath a sweatshirt he'd always wear. The next day Kyle went to school, Kyle told the school what had happened, and they annouced that his girlfriend (who shall remain unnamed) had died. People soon noticed that Kyle went from his always happy self, to a depressed, darker version of himself, and made the connection. They LAUGHED, at his loss. Not one person said they felt bad for him, or 'sorry for your loss.' One day at school while he was changing for gym, the jocks, noticed the scars on his arm, and laughed at him, then took him further down into the changing room and beat him. When the school asked what had happened, he just shruged and said a little roughhousing had gotten out of hand. Falling further into himself because he'd finally managed to push the last of his friends away, his parents just thought he was going through 'a phase.' He was a teenager after all. But then he'd attepted suicide. He was about to slit his own throaght with a kitchen knife, when his mother walked in and took the knife. A few days later, he'd tried to overdose on pills, but his dad caught him, and stopped him.
    "I will, come and join you, my love. I will leave the shackles of this world, the people, the ever so bothersome poeple, to come back to you..." was the only thing he'd mumble. One day during school, he snuck out a doorway on the top floor, which lead to the roof, and stood at the edge. Tears in his eyes, he had the biggest smile he'd had in a long time. "No one-no one can, stop me from coming to you, mothing left." Then he jumped.
    Waking up once again in the hospital, he found that snow had broken his fall. He'd gotten both his left leg and left arm broken. Then his parents walked in, and asked what had gone wrong, asking what had happened to thier son.
    "I grew up," was his only response. "Why, why is it so hard to live, but SO HARD TO DIE?" he shouted, calling the attention of nurses, doctors, and sending his parents reeling in shock.
    After sevral more days at school (You'd think his parents would be smart enough not to...) he brought money to school, came up to the jocks, handed them the money, and simply said, "Kill me."
    So they did exactly that, but they themselves were tramatized. They'd never thought they's take someones life. When his body was examined, they found a note.
    'I have to thank the jocks, for succeceding where I have failed. All I've wanted for so long, is this. Death. So please, don't punish them, they were doing what I asked. That's the nicest I've ever seen them....nut now, now I'm free, so don't mourn for me, because, this is what I wanted.'
    Finally, the other students at school were affected. All of Kyle's ex-friends became depressed, and blamed themsleves, thinking, if only we'd have been there for him. The Jocks stopped bullying people, and became very kind, and helpful. Everyone else was just shaken up by two deaths of their classmates in the same year. And his parents both became depressed, but stayed together, and didn't do any drugs, or anything of the sort. They did disappear after a while though, and haven't been found yet.
     
  5. Mia Henderson

    Mia lived in a shabby little trailer on the side of route 61. It once upon was a happy home; at least in her eyes. The small abode was filled with love and warmth but those days had long passed. She was ten when her mother was taken from them; that fateful day where she had only just stepped outside to tend to little garden that refused to grow much of anything but Mia's mother loved that garden. A truck had pulled up with a few men inside; claiming that they had lost their way. Mia's mother was a kind soul that always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. With curious eyes she had watched the whole scene take place. The sun glowing in her mother's long fiery hair as she stepped away to help the strangers out. The cruel glint of maliciousness that gleamed within their eyes. The screams and cries that echoed as hard hands seized her and pulled her into the truck. Mia had been frozen in fear; her mind screaming but her body refused to obey. She watched the dust fly into the air as the truck sped away and with a silent numbness she sat there for hours until her father had returned home.

    He had blamed her. Blamed her helpless nature for his beloved wife's kidnapping and soon took to drinking to help ebb the pain. Mia's life was thrust into turmoil. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move without punishment. Night after night she'd cry herself to sleep, weeping welts staining worn out clothing. Crushed beneath the sense of guilt. After all it was all her fault. She didn't speak up. She didn't call the cops. She hadn't tried to save her mother. In the end it was her hand that had sealed her mother's fate. Mia accepted her father's anger. Each blow was nothing more than what she deserved and with each year his decent into drugs, alcohol and gambling deepened. Soon the broken man fell into deep debt. Their house plagued with phone calls and strange men who'd turn up to threaten her father. Though it didn't take long for him to strike a deal with his loan sharks.

    They'd put off his death for a fair price; at least until he could pay for his debts. His daughter was now thirteen, just in the bloom of womanhood. Mia had taken after her mother's beauty. Fair skin scattered with freckles that flushed against wild fiery hair. She would fetch her father time; after all it was her fault they were in this mess in the first place. It had hurt the first time. So much pain that Mia had lost consciousness only to wake up cold, naked and alone. Shame burned within her; her heart grieving from all her mistakes. Would she never pay for her sins? Mia's mental state fell quickly as days turned into months and months into years. She no longer cried when the men came for her. No longer whimpered at the heavy thud of her father's drunken steps outside her room. The days passed in a blur while inside she simply felt; nothing. No fear. No anguish. No guilt. Her once vibrant soul ground to a dust and scattered into the wind. This wasn't life. She wasn't living. Mia was nothing more than an empty husk; devoid of any human reminisce. It was then that it all came to one sharp point, a moment of clarity among all the fog. With heavy limbs she drug herself out of her bed; paying no mind to the chill of winter outside she pressed forward. The night was thick. No light other than the heavily swollen moon above her. There was a faint hum of passing cars that zoomed down the highway.

    Mia thought of nothing. Just numbly carried herself forward. The pavement was hard beneath her bare feet and the road an icy darkness as she slowly crossed it. As a child she had watched the cars pass. From big blaring trucks to small dainty cars. It was here that she laid herself down. Tucking herself into a thin ball so that she wouldn't be easily spotted. All she had to do was wait; wait for the thunder of truck to finally bring her peace.
     
    #5 HecateProxy, Dec 20, 2013
    Last edited: Dec 20, 2013
  6. I am Josh Spacer.

    A 25 year old man who was once a normal, everyday person. I wen't to school, I wen't to prom, I did everything a normal kid would be able to do, and should do. As I look upon myself through the mirror I see the scar's of my past run across my cheek and end at the edge's of my mouth.

    I once served the army, you know. I had a loving wife who was bearing a kid, a child, not mine, but I loved her equally, If not stronger then my love or my woman, my wife. Her name would be Amanda, Amanda would become a strong and capable child. My wife's name is Christina, her beautiful black hear confined me every time I feared my life in the army, and every. single. GOD DAMN time.. that I went to sleep.. she would hold me and embrace me as I doubted myself.

    I was shot during my service in Iraq, I tried to save my best friend Tod, but instead I got shot and almost died along side him, I rather die then, then experience what would come however. The trauma of lying half dead alongside your childhood friend's dead corpes was horrendous, his smell and.. his body.. it was completely blown into bit's, arm's severed, chest's blown out..

    And yet he lied next to my, smiling and speaking something that I couldn't hear. it was horrible, had I been able to I'd take my life then and there. The suffer I sustained were so severe that once i fell unconcious I did not wake up for week's, and once I did it was at the hospital in Washington, my home.. fuckin' town!

    I recieved the purple heart and a medal of honor.. I recieved a medal for watching my friend die before me. I could never sleep at peace after that.. Week's later as my wife came to visit me and my recover an 'accident' happened two miles from the hospital.

    My wife.. and Amanda.. Died. In the car. Crash..

    As I look at myself here and now, and not in the past then and there I notice that I hold a gun in my hand.. Which one it is couldn't care right now to me.

    As I see my eyes water I ask the world one simple final question; Why not me? No, two question's; Why them?

    ''Amanda..'' I gasp for air as my voice start's to stutter and tears fill my face. ''Christina... Daddy's coming back..''

    The right hand.. equiped with a .45;er is subconciously relocated to the end of my jaw.. and without thinking, without acting.. without regret's. It is fired.
     
  7. "Emma, Emma wake up!" The kid sitting next to her on the bus yelled. "It's your stop."
    Emma woke up, and for a few seconds had no idea where she was. Realizing she'd fallen asleep, she quickly got up and got off the bus. A bit shaken by the normal cold, she got used to it quickly. She always liked the cold. Another excuse to wear the sweatshirt she never took off anyway. Another excuse to hide her arms.
    She continued to walk home. Hood up. Eyelids heavy. Remembering that night like always. That night that would torture her forever, or at least until the day she died. A day, she hoped, would come soon. That night that her life fell apart. The night, the only person who'd ever truly loved her was taken by a gun clutched in his hand right before her own eyes. She'd known about the torment. Torment brought on by his own mind. Torment that she could have stopped. Or so she thought.
    She knew of this monster. She'd felt it herself. The sharp claws, always tearing, always scratching, always slowly stealing the sanity of it's victims.
    She'd blame herself. She'd always blame herself for his death. She remembered everything he'd done for her. All those nights she'd run, screaming, away from that living hell that her father had called home, running to him. His parents never had anything against it. They knew what she went through. The beatings, from her father, ever since her mother's death. He was always there, when she'd be pounding at the door, begging to come in. He'd take her in his arms and hold her 'till she was stable again and able to speak. He'd be there to treat her wounds, when her back was laced with lashings, her arms covered in deep purple bruises. She hated the monster that took him. The one that took him was the same one that was driving her insane now.
    When she walked in the door of the old run down two story house, she heard the usual snoring of her so-called 'father' passed out on the floor. He must have been drinking like always. She could smell the stench of alcohol staining the carpet, and heavy on his breath. She walked upstairs to the small room she slept in, tearing another sketch out of her drawing book. The last one. She'd been burning them. One by one each day. A sort-of countdown. This was the last one. The last one of the artwork she'd done as relief from the torment, as it escaped from her mind onto the paper. Torment from his death. She took the drawing and clutched it in her hand. She didn't plan on burning this one. Going downstairs to the bathroom, she looked in the mirror and got undressed, taking the cold razor blade from her sweatshirt pocket. This was the last time she'd do this. She was sure of it. She drew the cold metal across her skin and felt the sting as the blood trickled down onto the floor. She looked up. This was the last time she'd see her own face in a mirror. Her pale skin highlighting the dark circles around her eyes. Her stringy red-brown hair covering her face. Putting her clothes back on, she grabbed the bottle of pain killers from the medicine cabinet.
    She was ready. Ready to carry out what she'd planned for so long. She ran out the door and into the snowy cold. Into the woods behind her house, finding a clearing between a few trees. She remembered this place. This was where she used to hide. Hide from her heavily drunk father. This was where that boy had found her, crying softly up in one of the tall trees.
    "Will you please come down from there?" he'd ask, his voice sounding kind and soothing. "I'm not here to hurt you. You don't sound like you're okay. I only want to help." She remembered how he was the first person she knew to show compassion. She remembered climbing down from that tree on that breezy fall day, and nearly collapsing in tears. She remembered how he caught her before she hit the ground letting her cry on his shoulder. He was always a good friend to her. He was always there, until the monster took him. Until the darkness robed him of his sanity.
    Looking up at the tree, she opened the pill bottle she had in her hand. She filled her palm with about twenty of the pain killers and swallowed them all. She took some snow and swallowed that allowing it to melt and make it easier to swallow the pills. She threw the pill container to the side and kept the drawing clutched close to her heart. Laying down in the snow, this time there was no one there to catch her. No one to stop her. She felt herself go numb from the cold and the pills. First her fingertips and toes, then her arms, then her legs. As she lost all feeling all she could do was whisper
    "It's all over. I'm coming to see you. I'll be home soon. It's all over."