Suicide Failure : The Vision

(PS : Must be read with Monty Python style in mind, bare in mind I wrote this when I was back in High School. Wasnt a very good writer. Not much has changed though.)

On a cold dreary evening when the wet clouds rolls with the thunders, I stepped onto the edge of my twelve storey high apartment. The simple act of moving my feet towards the chasm that had terrified and haunted me for so long had finally been accomplished. The days, weeks, and years of tentatively testing the feel of the steps towards the brink before losing my confidence and cowardly withdraw from my initial plan were now behind me. I gripped the rim tightly with my toes curling round the cemented base doing my best to ensure that the comfort and stability offered by the ledge would stay. Cautiously, I peered over the tips of my toes into the endless drop that was before me. Images of my previous attempts and the short unfulfilled life flashes through my mind. The surrounding was fading away, what used to be a city filled with motions and sounds is now a quiet and calm setting for my jump. Regrets and Pain, Love and Suffering, all the unspoken words flows in and out of my mind like endless rain into a paper cup as I stood there.

“Our Body are prison for our souls, and only death shall set us free. Only the birds could touch the sky and play among the gates of heaven. If you’re born a bird, you’re blessed,” I said as a black raven fly above my head. Clearing my mind, I relaxed my feet.

“If die is to sleep, To sleep- perchance to dream. Then let me sleep, For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, I’ll be prepared to take,” I said as the Raven rested on the railing next to me.

“Are you going to jump or recites poems all day,” said the Raven.

“What the fuck?” I said unsurprisingly in a surprised manner.

“Well, are you going to jump or not?” asked the Raven.

“Bi…Birds can speak?” I question the reality of the situation.

“Bird? I’m not a bird,” said the Raven as it flew past my head and transformed into a man in grey suits smoking a pipe standing right behind me. “I’m a man. So are you planning to kill yourself or not?”

I stare at the man in bewilderment with nothing to say but incoherent stutters.

“For godsake man. Answer the bloody question. Are you going to commit suicide or are you just enjoying the view in a dangerous manner?” asked the man in a familiar british accent.

“Why would you want to know?” I said the first thing in my head.

“Well, if your not going to jump then move aside because I would like to,” said the man casually.

“But you’re a bird?” I question the recent events as I climb back from the ledge.

“I thought I made I clear that I’m not a bird. Do I look like I have wings my dear boy?”

“But I just saw you transform from a bird into a man. Wait a minute, you look awfully familiar,” I state as I step closer to investigate the mysterious figure before me.

“Absolute nonsense. Next you will say I’m the son of god.”

“No I wont. I’ll say you’re Graham Chapman from the Monty Python,” I said as I recognize the man.

“Monty what now?”

“Yes, you’re Graham Chapman. There no doubt about that. You’re supposed to be dead,” I state.

“Am I now? Then there is really no point in trying to kill myself then if what you say is true. That Suicide Package I bought from the Centre was all for nothing then. Should have taken the Mid-Life Crisis Package, atleast there is some fast cars and young mistresses,” said Graham Chapman as he smokes his pipe.

“The what?”

“Or should I have taken the Exstential Crisis Package, it comes with free Depression. Some say it might have lead to Suicidal Tendancies as well. Thats a good bargain right there. Which one did you took?” he asked.

“Urm…What? I didnt took any package, I wait a minute what the hell is going on right here. Are you even real?” I said as I strecthed my hands to feel the solidity of this figure. My hands went right through his torso as if he wasnt even there.

“Well, will you look at that? Thats an interesting development. Is this part of the Suicide Package or is this the beginning of the After Life tour?’ he said.

“Well, I urm…. You must be a ghost or a spirit,” I try to reason the absurdity of the predicament.

“Me a ghost? Well that is unlikely. If I’m a ghost I’ll be haunting beautiful ladies in shower and not here questioning the intention of a suicidal teenage boy on a rooftop of some building.”

“Well it could be that your my guardian angel? That might make some sense,” I said.

“An Angel huh? Boy, do you even know me? I’m Graham Chapman, the defilers of ladies and sometimes men. A writer of silly comedy that some might considered as a heresy and you think I might just be funny enough for God to just forgive me for his own entertainment in Heaven? Even if God did pardon me for me to bring laughter to his kingdom, why would he made me your guardian Angel? I’m in no shape to be guiding anyones life,” said Mr Chapman.

“Urm….Wait. A minute ago you didnt know who you were. You didnt know what Monty Python was. And now you have his memory?”

“Well its obvious what I truly am isnt it?”

“What?”

“I’m just your Hallucination. A mental projection of your imagination.”

“Well, if thats true. Why the hell would I envision you? Especially in a time like this.”

“Maybe in a time of suicidal thought is the exact time you need to remember to laugh,” said Graham Chapman as he morphs into Eric Idle with grey hair and pink suit.

“I mean, when life gets you down and things looks hard or tough and people are stupid, obnoxious or daft and you think you had just quiet enough..,” he started to sing.

“Yeah, yeah okay. I know the song and yes you’re still alive. So you cannot be a ghost or an angel. Just some bugger I made up to stop myself from killing myself,” I said.

“Attaboy. When life is a piece of shit, Always looks at the bright side of life.”

“Easy for you to say. Try being a depressed lonely teenage boy in a fucked up family and a terrible school life.”

“Well, everyone has their problems mate but you dont end it just because its a bad story now. Just continue reading who knows, this shit of a life might just be worth while.”

“Yeah but just so you know, my life is bad enough before today. Now I’m having delusions telling me what to do. Imagine what else I might just hallucinate when I’m overcome with emotional surges.”

“I dont know about your other delusions but I’m the one telling you to continue living. I think that should be a positive thing. Tell you what, I know that you have a strong urges to kill yourself and you wont change your mind right now but promise me this. Just live until you’re 21 years old and if you still thinking about killing yourself comeback here and I’ll push you down myself. If not just come up here anyways and we’ll see how life have turn out for you.”

“21? Thats like five years to go. You really think I can continue to suffer for 5 more years?”

“5 years might seems long for a teenage boy but trust me its not. Time really fly after you graduate high school son. Atleast do that first. You’re still a virgin. Go find yourself some prositute and have a sexual experience. At the same time, try to answer this few questions. Where do you think you’ll end up after you die? Heaven or Hell? Or absolute nothingness? What is the meaning of Life anyways? You might think you know the answers now but go do your research and read the other thousands of men before you who have tackled such issues and tell me what is your final conclusion of these questions. If you have a definate answer that you’re confindence with and still think you want to end it all. Then be my guest and do as you please.”

“Okay fine, 5 years. Thats all I’m going to do. Dedicate on answering your questions and fuck as many woman as I can, if i can get any.”

“Good.”

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