Forgive Me

written in response to Shafali’s Creativity Carnival picture below:

John sat with his head in his hands, his back against a tree, at the bottom of the hill. His queasiness had subsided, but he wondered if he would ever be able to erase that image from his memory. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was a pair of deflated blue jeans and white sneakers. He wished he had kept his eyes there. But no, they had travelled further. They saw the gun and the notebook. They noticed how the arms were covered with a thin, leathery membrane and that the bones were exposed beneath it.  The skin around her cheeks had shrivelled and contracted. Scorched by the heat of the sun, her face had taken on a mummified appearance. Her bottom jaw line and teeth were fully exposed.  He remembered how a black beetle crawled out of her boney nose and scurried down into her gaping mouth. But it was her eyes – her dry, black and bulging eyes – that would haunt him the most.

John watched with a surreal fascination as the officers carried a large, black bag down the escarpment. Her body had been so badly decomposed that it had come apart in pieces. Even that black, thick plastic wasn’t dense enough to contain the smell of rot and decay. The odor burned into John’s nose, down his throat and into his belly. His stomach somersaulted in response, and he began to vomit, again.

The investigators, now finished with their photographs, labelled the evidence – the notebook and the gun. The items were placed into a tote in the back of their vehicles before they drove away.

The letter would have said this….

To the person who finds this paper, 

I have attached a picture of myself so you will be able to see who I once was. Yes, this is a younger version of me. One that was full of passion and life. One who had plans before a depression overtook me and crippled me with its cruelty. I am sorry, I cannot take this anymore. I feel like I have been peering out from a black hole, waiting for a ray of sunshine to light my way out. I have clamored; have tried to scrape out my path but I can no longer stand the plummets back down. My efforts have exhausted me.

I am a coward to the highest degree. I have hidden myself here amongst these trees in the hopes that my remains will be scattered among them. I do not want anyone to know how my story has ended, how I have given up the fight. I only want them to remember me for who I once was.

Forgive me,

Clair

*The moral of this story is that death is not pretty. If you are depressed, please seek some help*

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35 thoughts on “Forgive Me

  1. Didn’t know you could write like this. Great work. Especially I enjoyed the touch of the photo, a younger her, perhaps one with a hope not found in her at the age prior to the suicide.
    You do have a future in writing if you desire it.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is a wonderful story! So sad, but so insightful. I never read the other responses until I write mine, so as to not subconsciously ‘steal’ from something someone else wrote. It’s ironic that we both had the same baseline to our posts. Wonderful job! 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you so much Lydia! It’s funny that you mentioned not reading the responses until yours is written, I do that too. I will.be sure to check back and read yours. ☺ Just heading to a family reunion. Enjoy your weekend ☺

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I’m glad I’m not the only one! 🙂 Thank you, it sounds like you’re having a great start to your weekend! Enjoy the reunion and have a fantastic rest of your weekend also. 😀

        Like

  3. Wow, that was one powerful short story and very well written.
    I lost my brother to suicide 12 years ago. It always seemed so senseless and unbelievably sad, yet he wanted so much not to be here. He was bi-polar but we didn’t know that at the time, just that he was a very troubled man who saw no place for himself in this world. When bi-polar disorder came out into the open in the UK a couple of years later, I cried and cried for him and the pain he must have gone through living every day of his life in a hell I could never understand.
    I sometimes wish I could re-wind the clock and talk him out of it, but deep down I know that it wouldn’t have made any difference at all.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Really sorry. Any loss of loved one natural, accident or suicide will always live a gaping into the heart of those who love and care for them. I hope that those who are suffering will get the help that they need and realize that there are people who are there for them.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Depression, and the subsequent taking of ones own life, is so sad and seems senseless, to most at least. This story brings that sense of darkness one feels during severe depression into the light. My friend who committed suicide years ago had left no such note. Not sure it would’ve eased our pain any if he had. I just wish we couldve eased his pain. maybe he’d still be here. Great story. And, yes, seek help if needed. Please!

    Liked by 3 people

    1. I am very sorry to have brought back that memory for you SOB. It is sad, and senseless. And most suicides do not leave notes, perhaps because it would give them a chance to think about their actions before committing to the deed. I am very sorry for your loss. And I apologize for any ill feelings you may have had after reading this. Hugs.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Oh, no worries. Nothing to apologize for, I promise. It was 25 years ago, the anniversary was last month. I made a post about it a while ago, called it “Tarnished Silver” if you want to read the story. It sucked, to be sure! But he was in a place that none of us were aware of. Still not sure how we didn’t pick up on the signs, but it came outta the blue. I really felt bad for my friend who found him. It haunts him at times to this day. And to top it off, that same friend found out an ex girlfriend of his committed suicide about two months ago. That’s some baggage to carry around.

        Liked by 2 people

        1. That is some baggage. May I venture to say that any death, no matter how it comes, often leads to regrets. And the visual is something that will never leave a person. I will be sure to check out that post. Thanks for sharing it with me.

          Liked by 2 people

            1. I remember you saying that once, car accident? I still miss my mommy too, been 11 years. Some years not so bad, this year, basket case. It’s never easy to say goodbye, it always seems too soon.

              Liked by 1 person

  5. A story that will haunt me for a while. Your description is so vivid! The protagonist is long gone and yet there – letting us see her, allowing us a peep into her thoughts. You’ve used every clue in the image in a beautiful way. Thanks 🙂

    Liked by 3 people

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