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[Original Short Story] Never Said Goodbye

candle

Sponsor

Never Said Goodbye
By Michael "darkfire" Mazzaferri
(_,o0o,_)

I will never forget that day. It was the day that my life, my entire existence was crushed.

I guess I should back up a bit and explain who I am. My name is Alexander Floresone and until about a year ago, I was a very happy man. I had a good house and a great car but, more importantly, I had a loving family. I loved my beautiful wife, Jennifer, with all my heart. Together, we had a ten-year-old daughter, Nadia, the apple of my eye. I can still see their faces. Still smell Jenn’s perfume, still hear little ‘Dia practicing the piano, and I can still hear their voices…

That day started just like any other summer weekend. A circus had rolled into town, and Jenn thought it would be a good idea to take Nadia to see it. I was a bit apprehensive because I had been afraid of clowns since my dad's friend, Lawrence allowed me to watch Stephen King's It when I was three. I only ever saw the first three hours, but everyone tells me that is the scariest part.

Anyways, Jenn finally convinced me and soon we were out the door and on our way. Once we got there, we paid for three tickets and wandered the grounds for a while. We looked at the animals and a few other things as well as bought some souvenirs and candy for Nadia before entering the Big Top. The show began not long after we were seated. It was everything you would expect from a circus. There were strongmen, lion tamers, elephant riders, acrobats, and clowns. The star of the show was a clown whose stage name was Jules.

I don't know why, but something felt... off about him, somehow. He seemed just like any other clown, but the way he smiled... It seemed devious, even maniacal, and just downright frightening to me. I thought it was just my fears playing tricks on my mind. But, oh, how terribly wrong I was...

After the show, we got into the car and started for home. About an hour of driving later, I had reached a stretch of road that ran alongside the edge of a cliff with no guardrail. I had driven this road for years on my way to work, so I knew it pretty well and was confidant enough to drive it at night. Soon after passing the end of the guardrails, I noticed a car behind us that seemed to veer a little to the left. I thought he was going to pass me, so I kept a steady speed and hoped he was not stupid enough to try anything since this wasn't a very safe area.
The car sped up and was soon alongside us. At this point, I started to slow down a little so the idiot on my left could merge. All of the sudden, the other driver veered to the right, and we were forced over the edge of the cliff. As we fell, I looked over and saw that the other driver was that damned clown, Jules. The last thing I remember seeing was that infernal clown's twisted smirk.

I came to in a hospital bed. Turns out, Jenn died on impact, and Nadia was in the room next to me with internal bleeding. Forgoing the grieving for my wife, at least for a little bit, I asked to see my daughter. After having done a lot of research for my work, I knew that she wouldn't last much longer. I just wanted to say goodbye. The nurse told me that my spinal column had been separated below the ribcage, and I knew I was paralyzed from the waist down. She then told me I was in no shape to be moved, and I did the one thing I had never done before in my entire life. I begged. I begged and pleaded like never before. I even appealed to her as a father who was about to lose the last ray of sunshine in his life (which I surely was). Nothing worked.

In a fit of rage, I sent her away and waited for a few minutes. After a while, I noticed a wheel chair in the corner, probably put there to taunt me. A plan began to form in my mind. I knew I didn't have much time before another nurse or a doctor walked in, so I quickly pulled out my IV drip, and anything else the hospital had attached to me. I dragged my self out of the bed and fell to the floor. Immediately, I bit back a scream. Pain was no mystery to me, having grown up with five older brothers, but damn! It was the most intense pain I had ever felt. I could swear my entire back was on fire!

Bit by agonizing bit, I crawled over to the chair and dragged myself into it. I quickly wheeled myself out into to the hall and to the next room just as they covered a little ten-year-old girl with a white sheet. I was too late! I couldn't contain my cries this time. The nurse noticed me in the door and immediately called a doctor as she put me back in my room.

Over the next few months, I was recovering and getting used to being without the use of my legs. The only time I was allowed out of the hospital was to burry my family. After six months of harsh treatment and excruciating physical therapy, I was finally released from the hospital. I went home and tried to move past my grief and reclaim my life. It didn't work. I fell into a very deep depression. I awoke every morning with tears in my eyes and my throat hoarse from the nightmares that had been branded into my very being.

Within another month, I had sold my house and moved into a flat nearer my parents. There were too many memories in that house, good and bad. It had belonged to Jenn's parents, and had been left to us after they died. I had thought that maybe a change of scenery would help, but nothing changed. My life was a wreck. I couldn't concentrate on my work. I had no appetite. I couldn't even sleep without seeing that damned clown's evil sneer!
After a time, I came up with a plan to end my suffering. A week ago, I held a big party on the day of my wedding anniversary so I could say goodbye to the rest of my family and friends. And today, I implemented the second phase. By the time you read this, whoever you are, I will already be with my lost wife and child. Goodbye...

~Alexander Floresone

Joseph Mantare put down the letter and looked back at the poor soul in the wheelchair next to him. The man had slit his wrists and bled to death. In his hands was a picture of him and two people Joe could only guess were Jennifer and Nadia. As he left the crime scene, the police officer was struck by the depths of this wretched soul's despair. He truly hoped this man had found the peace he was looking for.

(c) 2007 - Michael "darkfire" Mazzaferri
 

Cygnea

Sponsor

This isn't badly written, but it strikes me as an odd story because the focus, the suicide note, seems so distant. It's as if the man writing it isn't putting any emotion into it. He mentions the nightmares and pain, but sort of skims over it, and isn't addressing his family and friends who will undoubtedly learn about the letter but rather the person who will find his body. Yes, he's already said goodbye to him - in his own way; I took this as meaning he spent one last, happy day with them, hoping to leave the with good memories - but wouldn't he want to include something to reassure them or address them personally?

Of course, I've never seen a suicide note, but that's what I'd expect to be in it.

This:
A week ago, I held a big party on the day of my wedding anniversary.  This party was so I could say goodbye to the rest of my family and friends.

Could be:
A week ago, I held a party on my wedding anniversary so I could say goodbye to the rest of my family and friends.

It takes away the repetition of the word party and flows a little smoother.

In this paragraph:
Anyways, Jenn finally convinced me and soon we were out the door and on our way.  Once we got there, we paid for three tickets and wandered the grounds for a while.  We looked at the animals and a few other things as well as bought some souvenirs and candy for Nadia before entering the Big Top.  The show began not long after we were seated.  It was everything you would expect from a circus.  There were strongmen, lion tamers, elephant riders, acrobats, and clowns.  The star of the show was a clown whose stage name was Jules.

It would have been interesting to see him elaborate. It's obviously a strong memory so he probably recall a few things, like if Nadia had a favorite attraction or if he won Jenn a cheap stuffed bear.
 

candle

Sponsor

It always seemed to me that when people are really depressed, they can't focus on the happy times, only the bad regardless of the memories strength.

The letter wasn't intended for his family, but those who would find him.  He had already said goodbye to his family so why write a note to them?  Please keep in mind that I have never seen a suicide note either, so I was writing based on what I felt I would say in his place.


Cygnea":16gwiyrd said:
It would have been interesting to see him elaborate. It's obviously a strong memory so he probably recall a few things, like if Nadia had a favorite attraction or if he won Jenn a cheap stuffed bear.

While adding specific details would help immerse a reader, suicide note are not intended to have that effect.  They are simply a means for people to tell why they have killed themselves.
 

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