‘I’ve been dead for fucking years.’

Trees after Rain

A short, short on a radical character inspired by some of the amazing characters
in some of Dostoevsky’s works.

     The note I played was subtle, I had hoped it had been hardly—if ever—heard.
I had hoped the note was the ominous space left tickling an ear follicle with the
utmost slender tone, a taste so faint that it would attack the palate with feeble
force and render the tongue seemingly unchanged to my nuances, a sparkling glimmer
that twinkles intensely dim in the peripheral of the vision, the bare caress that
could be felt of a foot patting the other side of the Earth, truly the one molecule
of odor that scented something wrong miles away. To put it more politely, I hope that
I left a mark on the world for no one to notice or—if they may have—to care for.

     Unfortunately for me, this could never be further from the case. You see,
my relations were important to my relations, my opinions (somehow) had a power
over theirs, and worst of all, I could never muster a 'no' to some petty request
or favor and thus I had become somewhat a pillar to good-faith, trust, and
all else I hoped I would have never become. But I was a coward, a blasted amoeba,
a tortured desert road, drying clay under the thumbs of a disgusted sculptor,
a floor mat, yes! something to be stepped on and wipe away the dirt from filthy
shoes ... ah, but the dirt had been seeping in between the moral fibers of my being
and I was becoming more entrenched with the vile, revolting underside of people's
soles!

     Enough! I said. And I tried to pass this world, on numerous occasions but
always at the final breathing moment (as it were by the hand of a God with humor)
I would freeze up, just waiting or sitting there vying for the strength to meet
those who found the end of the rope, and as I would sit for minutes there would
always be something to bug me. "Could you drive Mom to the hospital?" "Will you
come over and proof this letter for me?" Et cetera, et cetera. I could never say
'no' therefore I could never focus long enough to extinguish my pitiful little flame
that managed somehow in the passing little showers of these people around me. I
needed something, anything other than myself to complete this beautiful sin. No, it
had to be someone else, I could never trust fate in my own hands, maybe I could
never have killed myself but by some awful miracle slip up and end up in paralyses 
or in asylum for an eternity——What great, laughable Purgatory! Not a chance, I
must complete the transaction: this world for the Elysian Fields, infinite slumber.
Oh how I love to sleep! It sounds so perfect! Yes, I will need someone to pass me
over into the nether so encumbered with dreams. (In the ready corpse, I dreamt only
of darkness, the blackest heaven, the heart of night for there I will rest amidst
lost thoughts and meaningless reveries!)

     I wondered, But who? Who would carry the burden of this condemnable act?

     It just so happened that it was not a who but a cat I was watching for my
younger sister. The old tabby hated me enough and thus innocently, yet so gracefully,
plunged its spiteful claw into the jugular vein and then hissed the call of the
angel of death as I let the blood flow into warm pools around my felled body
on the floor of my own home.
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