Exploring my own death
0
So, i've been in and out of depression recently because of this girl, and I decided to explore how my death would affect the people i care about, especially her. hopefully, that's all you need to know.
MY writing style is weird, at best, so i would appreciate any criticism especially about plot holes or badly worded sentences, If you wanna say it sucks that's fine i can take it. I tried to proofread it but you know how it is with your own writing. Thanks for taking the time to read it. Oh, and i have a problem ending things, they never have the same impact i want them too, any help on that would be AWESome. Here it is, names have been changed blah blah blah
Steven sat on his rock-like futon loosely gripping his newly acquired gaming controller. The four friends had taken turns passing the two controllers between them and now it was Steven's turn, along with Billy. Steven pressed a few buttons lazily eying the screen in front of him. The screen flashed white for a second before displaying the dreaded phrase “game over” on the screen.
“Steven! C'mon! Pay attention.” Billy said, a bit annoyed that Steven had just lost him a game.
“Yea, sorry. Here, Alex, you do it.” Steven tossed the controller to Alex and looked away at nothing in particular.
Though it was currently against her wishes to console Steven in any way (for good reason), she could see the concern Billy and Alex were expressing. She knew they would never ask, because of who they are, so she asked for them. “Steven, what's wrong with you?”
Steven stared at the bookshelf next to him for a few more seconds before answering, “Nothing.” He said, and smiled. He wanted to scream and shout about his problems, but he knew there was nothing they could do. His eyes shone with happiness again, and all was well. Life went on as normal.
Steven's mangled remains lay in a pool of blood and innards most definitely his own. A broken chair lay a few feet away crumbled into wood chips. Wind blew through a now windowless second story apartment, vacated of it's tenant. Flashing lights provided a temporary sight of the lifeless body, if a bit frustrating. Mixed emotions washed over Mary's mind. A feeling of denial, quickly followed by anger. She didn't know what to think, he had been so cold and unloving towards her in these past months, simply because she did not feel the same way about him, but before that he was kind, funny and friendly. She felt sadness, for they had been friends, only recently complicated by his obsession with her. Tears filled her eyes, if only because she felt it necessary. The crowd around her grew and grew, hiding her from view, so she could look on as she pleased.
She shouldn't even be here, she had decided to take a detour on her way home from work to avoid an unsettling man who appeared to be following her. She heard yelling and looked across from her to see Alex fighting with police to get to his friend. He screamed at them to let him through. It was a good fifteen minutes before he settled down and began talking to the police. Mary watched the whole thing, until she heard a police officer talking to a woman at the front of the crowd.
“Well, there appears to have been a scuffle of some sort up in the apartment. Tables overturned, papers strewn across the room. Stuff like that. Then there's that pile of wood over there. Used to be a chair, it seems to have been thrown through that there window-” the police officer pointed to the gaping hole in the building, “and then at some point followed by the victim.” The officer pointed to Steven with a smug look on his face. That's all he was now, Steven had become a tool for this stupid pig to get laid. Mary fought back tears again as she listened for more information. Was it a burglary, she thought to herself. “Well, nothing was stolen.” Mary heard the same officer say, “Maybe the burglar got scared and ran after he saw what he did. Wouldn't surprise me, I've seen it a lot.” Mary wanted to puke when she saw the arrogant prick smile as his feminine interest for tonight awed at his “expertise.” Mary heard the woman mumble something but couldn't quite make out what she said until the officer responded, “No, actually he wasn't killed by the fall. We found a knife lodged in his heart. It was in there pretty good, downward stabbing motion and all.” The officer proceeded to demonstrate on the woman. Mary couldn't stand this place anymore. She turned and ran toward the only place she knew she could be alone. Home.
She ran her hands through her hair as she fell to her knees crying. Time blended together as she counted the number of phone calls she ignored. 15, 20, 25. they kept coming, and she continued to sob, curled up in a ball in the corner. She had never felt pain like this, this infinite loss. There was no chance to make up or get back at him. He was gone. Steven was dead, and there was nothing she could do about it. The image of Steven lying alone on the pavement, surrounded by a puddle of his own blood, kept her awake at night. She felt the image burning her head, tearing her brain apart. Who would kill him, she thought. Who would kill Steven?
The cops came and went, asking and accusing nothing of significance. Alex and Billy came to reminisce, soon to be followed by her parents, and Steven's parents. She became a kind of numb. Sure, she cried and felt sad, but it was never the same as that first painful night. The night that still haunted her three days later. The funeral was over, and Mary walked home from work alone. She liked being alone, preferred it even. She didn't want to care for anyone but her self, and she especially didn't want the pity. A knock at the door snapped her thoughts back to the present, as she cautiously walked toward the door. She grasped the brass doorknob tightly and pulled open the door just enough to see a tall man in a brown coat in front of two police officers. “Can I help you?” She said meekly. She hoped with all her heart it was about a robbery down the street or a missing child. Anything besides Steven.
“Ma'am.” The man in the brown coat started, “We'd like to speak to you about your friend, Steven.” Mary cringed when she heard his name. The pain from the nights curled in a ball, crying, flashed through her mind. She lowered her eyes and nodded her head for the three men to come in.
“Thanks, this shouldn't take too long.” The man in the brown coat said, while seating himself in the chair closest to the door. The two policemen stood behind him. Mary seated herself across from him and looked intently at his eyes. They were cold, and uncaring. He was here on business. Nothing more.
“I just came by to ask if you had noticed anything-”
“About what?” Mary interrupted.
“About Steven. Leading up to the... accident” The man finished.
Mary noticed the careful word change, it was no longer an assumed burglary. Now it was an accident. “Why? What's going on?” Mary said.
“Well, we just wanted to know if Steven was depressed in any way, you know, leading up to to the accident.”
Mary's first instinct was to shout “No, are you stupid?!” but one thing gave her pause. That day when they were all together, that look on Steven's face. She had never seen him look that way before. “What happened?” she asked frantically.
The man sighed and the two officers behind him tensed up. For a moment Mary saw the man's eyes soften, but it was gone within the same instant. “Steven's fingerprints were all over the apartment, it appears he trashed his own place.” The man paused before moving on. “His prints were also found on the chair legs.”
“That's not enough to assume he-” Mary was stopped by the man raising his hand in front of him.
“We also discovered he had purchased the knife that was found in his chest a week earlier, and his prints aligned with the knife pointing toward his chest.” Mary's eyes blurred and her lip quivered as she realized what they were implying. “We also found this on his table.” The man handed her a piece of paper with six words on it. “Mary. I love you. I'm sorry.” A cocktail of emotions enveloped Mary. Her eyes were no longer dry, her composure was no longer collected. The man and the two officers stood up, and respectfully let themselves out. Mary again ignored calls, and again lie in a corner, crying. The pain was absolute, the pain was everything she knew, but she embraced it. This is what is left of Steven, she thought. This pain is all I have left of him.
MY writing style is weird, at best, so i would appreciate any criticism especially about plot holes or badly worded sentences, If you wanna say it sucks that's fine i can take it. I tried to proofread it but you know how it is with your own writing. Thanks for taking the time to read it. Oh, and i have a problem ending things, they never have the same impact i want them too, any help on that would be AWESome. Here it is, names have been changed blah blah blah
Steven sat on his rock-like futon loosely gripping his newly acquired gaming controller. The four friends had taken turns passing the two controllers between them and now it was Steven's turn, along with Billy. Steven pressed a few buttons lazily eying the screen in front of him. The screen flashed white for a second before displaying the dreaded phrase “game over” on the screen.
“Steven! C'mon! Pay attention.” Billy said, a bit annoyed that Steven had just lost him a game.
“Yea, sorry. Here, Alex, you do it.” Steven tossed the controller to Alex and looked away at nothing in particular.
Though it was currently against her wishes to console Steven in any way (for good reason), she could see the concern Billy and Alex were expressing. She knew they would never ask, because of who they are, so she asked for them. “Steven, what's wrong with you?”
Steven stared at the bookshelf next to him for a few more seconds before answering, “Nothing.” He said, and smiled. He wanted to scream and shout about his problems, but he knew there was nothing they could do. His eyes shone with happiness again, and all was well. Life went on as normal.
Steven's mangled remains lay in a pool of blood and innards most definitely his own. A broken chair lay a few feet away crumbled into wood chips. Wind blew through a now windowless second story apartment, vacated of it's tenant. Flashing lights provided a temporary sight of the lifeless body, if a bit frustrating. Mixed emotions washed over Mary's mind. A feeling of denial, quickly followed by anger. She didn't know what to think, he had been so cold and unloving towards her in these past months, simply because she did not feel the same way about him, but before that he was kind, funny and friendly. She felt sadness, for they had been friends, only recently complicated by his obsession with her. Tears filled her eyes, if only because she felt it necessary. The crowd around her grew and grew, hiding her from view, so she could look on as she pleased.
She shouldn't even be here, she had decided to take a detour on her way home from work to avoid an unsettling man who appeared to be following her. She heard yelling and looked across from her to see Alex fighting with police to get to his friend. He screamed at them to let him through. It was a good fifteen minutes before he settled down and began talking to the police. Mary watched the whole thing, until she heard a police officer talking to a woman at the front of the crowd.
“Well, there appears to have been a scuffle of some sort up in the apartment. Tables overturned, papers strewn across the room. Stuff like that. Then there's that pile of wood over there. Used to be a chair, it seems to have been thrown through that there window-” the police officer pointed to the gaping hole in the building, “and then at some point followed by the victim.” The officer pointed to Steven with a smug look on his face. That's all he was now, Steven had become a tool for this stupid pig to get laid. Mary fought back tears again as she listened for more information. Was it a burglary, she thought to herself. “Well, nothing was stolen.” Mary heard the same officer say, “Maybe the burglar got scared and ran after he saw what he did. Wouldn't surprise me, I've seen it a lot.” Mary wanted to puke when she saw the arrogant prick smile as his feminine interest for tonight awed at his “expertise.” Mary heard the woman mumble something but couldn't quite make out what she said until the officer responded, “No, actually he wasn't killed by the fall. We found a knife lodged in his heart. It was in there pretty good, downward stabbing motion and all.” The officer proceeded to demonstrate on the woman. Mary couldn't stand this place anymore. She turned and ran toward the only place she knew she could be alone. Home.
She ran her hands through her hair as she fell to her knees crying. Time blended together as she counted the number of phone calls she ignored. 15, 20, 25. they kept coming, and she continued to sob, curled up in a ball in the corner. She had never felt pain like this, this infinite loss. There was no chance to make up or get back at him. He was gone. Steven was dead, and there was nothing she could do about it. The image of Steven lying alone on the pavement, surrounded by a puddle of his own blood, kept her awake at night. She felt the image burning her head, tearing her brain apart. Who would kill him, she thought. Who would kill Steven?
The cops came and went, asking and accusing nothing of significance. Alex and Billy came to reminisce, soon to be followed by her parents, and Steven's parents. She became a kind of numb. Sure, she cried and felt sad, but it was never the same as that first painful night. The night that still haunted her three days later. The funeral was over, and Mary walked home from work alone. She liked being alone, preferred it even. She didn't want to care for anyone but her self, and she especially didn't want the pity. A knock at the door snapped her thoughts back to the present, as she cautiously walked toward the door. She grasped the brass doorknob tightly and pulled open the door just enough to see a tall man in a brown coat in front of two police officers. “Can I help you?” She said meekly. She hoped with all her heart it was about a robbery down the street or a missing child. Anything besides Steven.
“Ma'am.” The man in the brown coat started, “We'd like to speak to you about your friend, Steven.” Mary cringed when she heard his name. The pain from the nights curled in a ball, crying, flashed through her mind. She lowered her eyes and nodded her head for the three men to come in.
“Thanks, this shouldn't take too long.” The man in the brown coat said, while seating himself in the chair closest to the door. The two policemen stood behind him. Mary seated herself across from him and looked intently at his eyes. They were cold, and uncaring. He was here on business. Nothing more.
“I just came by to ask if you had noticed anything-”
“About what?” Mary interrupted.
“About Steven. Leading up to the... accident” The man finished.
Mary noticed the careful word change, it was no longer an assumed burglary. Now it was an accident. “Why? What's going on?” Mary said.
“Well, we just wanted to know if Steven was depressed in any way, you know, leading up to to the accident.”
Mary's first instinct was to shout “No, are you stupid?!” but one thing gave her pause. That day when they were all together, that look on Steven's face. She had never seen him look that way before. “What happened?” she asked frantically.
The man sighed and the two officers behind him tensed up. For a moment Mary saw the man's eyes soften, but it was gone within the same instant. “Steven's fingerprints were all over the apartment, it appears he trashed his own place.” The man paused before moving on. “His prints were also found on the chair legs.”
“That's not enough to assume he-” Mary was stopped by the man raising his hand in front of him.
“We also discovered he had purchased the knife that was found in his chest a week earlier, and his prints aligned with the knife pointing toward his chest.” Mary's eyes blurred and her lip quivered as she realized what they were implying. “We also found this on his table.” The man handed her a piece of paper with six words on it. “Mary. I love you. I'm sorry.” A cocktail of emotions enveloped Mary. Her eyes were no longer dry, her composure was no longer collected. The man and the two officers stood up, and respectfully let themselves out. Mary again ignored calls, and again lie in a corner, crying. The pain was absolute, the pain was everything she knew, but she embraced it. This is what is left of Steven, she thought. This pain is all I have left of him.