While You’re Still Here – 5

Silvia Ricevuti

by Silvia Ricevuti

Story

“That’s a pretty cold calculation. And since you’re so logical and cool-headed, may I ask how you plan to kill yourself?”

He wavers for a moment, thinking of his body ripped apart by an underground train, but he stares right at her, pushing his tongue against the palate and clawing through the jeans the new burns on his leg.

“I might take example from you. Or I could be a bit more imaginative than hanging myself in my bedroom.”

He regrets saying that even before ending the sentence. And suddenly, he is alone in the room.

Tom feels that his body has stopped responding. His muscles are weak, almost hurting, any sign of hunger has disappeared and, to be completely honest, he can’t even bother killing himself anymore. He just wishes he would stop existing right there, right now, that any sign of him would disappear from Earth, and he would just cease feeling.

The absence of consciousness.

A few steps from him, there is his desk; under the desk, a drawer; and inside that drawer, ten or twelve blister packs of any kind of medication Tom has ever taken. He has tried several, never patient enough to take the same one for more than a few weeks. So drugs piled up in his drawer.

It would be so easy now. He must still have a bottle of booze left from a house party Erik threw a couple of weeks ago. And he knows there are enough sleeping pills in that drawer…

Tom has a cold feeling in his stomach. He closes his eyes and sees a bright room with yellow walls, wide windows and little furniture, a desk, a bunk bed, a bookcase. The sun reflects on the walls lighting everything up with a warm shade. In the middle of the room, there is an old-fashioned ceiling lamp. Old, but strong enough to hold up Maeve’s body.

Fuck it. He grabs his jacket and rushes out without locking the door.

© Silvia Ricevuti 2023-08-30

Genres
Novels & Stories
Moods
Dark, Emotional, Sad
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