The Easy Way Out
Three years ago
Panic filled his being, adrenaline coursed through his veins, his heartbeat played a different rhythm, one a little too fast to dance to. His mind raced through different thoughts and ideas as he himself raced through the hallways of his high school.
Hearing the news alone was enough to put him in shock, he couldn't possibly have believed what he had heard. He took it as though he didn't hear clearly.
His first thoughts were of things he possibly couldn't do again, places he possibly couldn't go again, the life he would have to journey through. All what he didn't want to do alone.
His brain replaying the statement over and over and over again in his mind, despite his efforts to not think about it. The fact that he was running, the reason why he was running, the air he struggled for while he ran all made it impossible to not think of it.
He stopped, panting for air, his lungs burning and begging for more oxygen, his heart beating faster than that of a race car driver. He placed his hands on both his knees, he turned, looked at the lady walking down the street with her dog, the other lady forcing her child back into the house from the lawn at the other end of the road.
The white broken lines lining the road. The road he knew without looking. He could tell where the tree was by the road, where the fire hydrant was mounted on the walkway, all with his eyes closed. He was on the route back home.
Home.
The thought of home brought memories back to him like a roasted turkey on a silver tray. He thought of it all,
of him.
It was all he could think of as he ran. Past memories dancing around his head, all memories of Him.
His legs gave in to his fatigue as he fell ass first on the ground. He simply sat not moving an inch, he looked forward, same route leading home as tears welled up in his eyes.
He picked up a small piece of stone and threw it forward. He clenched his fist, his jaw and he kept on a hard stare towards where the stone had landed. At that very moment his emotions could be felt radiating off him.
The anger,
The bitterness,
The pain,
The pain.
He let it all out in a pained growl, then a scream, a whimper and then sobbing as he cried out to his content.
Earlier on
The morning sun had kissed him awake. Slivers of light peeped through the drawn blinds, casting thin golden stripes across his face. He opened his eyes slowly and drowsily.
Lopped sidedly he smiled.
He stretched on his bed as he yawned, he pulled his blankets up to cover his neck, he felt cold and still wanted to sleep in.
He just stared at the window, listening to the birds chirp, focusing his senses on what he hear from outside his window.
He rolled to the end of his bed where his bedside table was. He picked up his glasses and then picked up his phone. He went through some notifications and replied a text from Henry. He was on his phone for a while until his mom came into his room.
"Honey, you have school." She said sweetly, smiling standing at the door.
"I know mom, good morning." He said as she turned to leave.
"Good morning sweetie," She shouted back from the hall.
Christian got out of his bed and to the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror, removed his glasses and rinsed his face. He picked up his tooth brush and pressed way too much toothpaste for one person on it and began brushing his teeth.
A few movements up, down, back and forth and he was done. He dipped in head into the sink to rinse off his mouth.
He took of his chowder themed pajamas and placed them on the edge of the counter where he kept his mouth wash, deodorants, extra soap, toothbrush and some other toiletries.
He stepped into the shower and relaxed as the warm water hit his back. He picked up his soap from the holder few meters away from the shower head and his loofah that hung beside it.
Few minutes later he was done bathing and in his towel drying off. He hung his towel on the on-door rack behind the bathroom door.
He dressed up for school and sat in the dining for breakfast. His mom placed a plate of waffles with some syrup on it and a glass of mango juice. He had a strong liking towards waffles, himself and Henry that they both made a pact to eat waffles every morning a long as they could.
Christian ate a little too fast, eager to leave and go off to school. On a normal day he wouldn't, but today was the day he had promised Angela dilemma that he would help her out with the student body president campaign.
"Hey, table manners," Beatrice, his mom scolded.
"Already done," Christian stated as he pushed the last bit of waffle into his mouth. His mom shook her head as he downed his glass of mango juice.
"Let's go," he said excitedly as he walked towards the door.
Why was he so excited to help out with the campaign one might think,
Well Angela Adams aka Angela dilemma, same grade as Christian, hot cheerleader, got all the boys tripping. But had one issue, she had Aboulomania, a mental disorder in which the patient displays pathological indecisiveness.
She had trouble doing things, she was even indecisive on the right way she should speak. Being in her head is like a room full with flying question and no one to answer them. But she fought through it.
Angela also had a close friend, Brittany. Never seen two feet away from each other, which meant she'd be there with Angela today. Thus; the reason behind his excitement, he had a thing for her.
He plugged in his earphones as he sat in the car, his mom entering just a few seconds later. She started the engine and drove off to school.
"Honey, your seatbelt," She scolded softly.
He quickly put on his sit belt and dropped himself back on the passengers seat, bobbing his head up and down to the music he had on.
When they arrived at school, he parted with his mom. Standing at the entrance to the school, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath and sighed smiling as the sun once again caressed his skin, giving off a glow just like sweet honey.
He stepped into the school, almost on a beeline for his locker. When he got there he simply put everything into it, neatly. He dug out his phone, texted Henry and Angela.
Almost immediately Angela replied telling him where they would meet up and he went on.
"You're here," Angela chimed.
"I am," he said looking around trying to find Brittany. And as though on cue she came out of the smaller room behind the curtains.
She came out smiling, her long brown hair dancing behind her as she flipped her neck towards her right side. The short earrings she had on reflecting rays of the lights on the ceiling, her skin having an eminent glow to it. She walked elegantly and seductively as she walked to them holding a brown box. All these Christian saw occurring in slow motion.
"Hii!" she greeted.
"Uhm hi-hey- what's up!" Christian blurted out. Scratching the back of his neck. She only chuckled obviously aware of her effect on the boy.
Angela rolled her eyes.
"Okay let's get to work!" Angela ordered.
An hour later they were done with everything and had pasted the posters on every corner of the school.
"That was nice, thank you so much chris. lunch's on me."
"Cool, and it's Christian."
"Oh she knows" Brittany laughed. "It happened to be the one she chose after battling on names she could call you," she added.
"What about you, what would you wanna call me?" he said more confidently, using his smile as his weapon.
She stared, batted her eyes and then spoke. "Christian's fine." She said as she and Angela walked away.
He went on with the rest of the day as usual, they didn't have first period hence the time to work on the campaign posters. He mostly spent the rest of the morning half listening in class, awaiting lunch time where he would have enough time to spend with Brittany.
'Brittany, her long hair, pretty skin, the way she smiles. She way she looked at me when she said my name. Christian. She's so polite, if lunch goes well, I'd ask her-' his train of thoughts abruptly interrupted when he heard his name.
"Mr. doubek?" the principal repeated
He cleared his throat as he sat straight. "Yes?"
"Come with me please." She stated and walked out the classroom. He followed her as they walked to her office.
"Am i in trouble principal Gunderson?" He asked as it seemed weird she would call him out in the middle of a class.
"No, Christian. We would just like to see you in my office." She said as she passed her secretary and turned the knob of her office door.
"We?" He asked, confused. But he understood when he saw his parents sitting in the principals office awaiting their arrival.
Both his parents.
His dad was here. He knew his dad for traveling a lot in business and didn't expect him to be back until tomorrow.
The atmosphere had changed, from when he had left the classroom to this office. Their presence gave off a disturbing feeling. And their facial expressions didn't help matters get better.
"What's wrong?" He asked immediately, not bothering to greet them, seeing as they all looked at him pitifully.
"Honey would you come sit with us?" His mom said, her voice shaky attempting to smile but came of as a weak pained smile.
"Mom? Is everything okay?" He asked
He turned to look at his dad who hadn't said a word since he entered the office. "Dad what's wrong?"
Mrs. Gunderson answered this time, "Mr Doubek, please take a seat."
"It's alright," his father spoke up.
"What's happening dad?" Christian asked, still confused as to what was going on. The principal was now giving his mother a tissue to wipe her eyes.
"Dad?" He called, his eyes still fixed on his mother and the principal.
"He killed himself," his dad simply stated.
Christian took a step back, panic rising in his bones. "Who dad?.... who killed himself?"
His father took a moment but finally spoke up "Henry."
Everything suddenly became numb, his vision blurred. The silent noise of the air conditioner in the office became more audible to him, his father talking, his principal talking, all falling to deaf ears, he suddenly couldn't hear anything.
His breathing pattern had changed, heart racing. Everything seemed slow at the moment. It was like he had been thrown in a dark gooey pit.
Mrs. Gunderson tried to reach out for him but he flinched, taking another step back. His dad tried to grab a hold of him but he only pushed him away and ran out the office.
As he ran out, he couldn't help but cry. He couldn't hold back the tears welling up his eyes. He ran through the hallways, wanted to be anywhere else but this school. He ran past Henry's locker, glancing back behind him towards the locker for a moment.
He felt pain in his chest, in the pits of his stomach and he knew they weren't from abruptly running out of school. It was the kind of pain stopping for a breather wouldn't subdue. The kind of pain that was too deeply rooted for a pain killer to act on.
Not knowing where he was going, he never really did have a destination, he simply let his legs lead the way, soon after he stopped at the road leading to the bridge.
It had do not cross police signs. He wondered why, he always came here and and saw nothing, then it hit him.
He killed himself.
This was their favorite spot, he killed himsef here. Christian tore the signs and ran to the middle of the bridge.
He looked down and then dropped to his knees and face palmed himself and started crying. He was in that same position till his parents and Henry's parents found him there two hours later.
"Let's go home," his mom coaxed.
"No!" he screamed.
"Christian," Henry's mother called out.
He turned to look at the young lady who had just lost her son. Her eyes red and swollen, she held and handkerchief which she used to dab her eyes even as she spoke to him.
"It's okay Christian, we'll be alright, it's okay to cry now. Let's go home." She said, crying still.
"He left this," she held an envelope.
"What?" He asked confused.
"Read it," she managed to say.
He took it, hands trembling as he held the letter. "You can read it later on. Let's go," Henry's mom Sarah said, trying her possible best to smile. To comfort the boy and his loss.
She too lost a son, and she also knew how dearly Christian loved her son. He complied and let her lead the way out of the bridge.
He couldn't sleep that night, he kept thinking. He turned in his bed, left, right, upside down, facing the ceiling, face planting into his pillow. He simply wasn't at rest. He pushed himself off his bed and sat up.
He stared at his bedside table, there lied the letter Henry's mom had given him. He picked it up, rubbing his thumb over his name. His name written elegantly over the cover of the letter in Henry's own handwriting.
He held it for a few more seconds before opening it. Taking in a deep breath he started reading.
"Christian, I'm sorry it had to be like this. I'm sorry you had to read this than hear me say it. If I had told you in person you wouldn't have let me do it. I'm sorry I left you all alone."
"Its so hard to talk when you want to kill yourself. That's above and beyond everything else, and it's not a mental complaint-it's a physical thing, like it's physically hard to open your mouth and make the words come out. They don't come out smooth and in conjunction with your brain the way normal people's words do; they come out in chunks as if from a crushed-ice dispenser; you stumble on them as they gather behind your lower lip. So you just keep quiet."
"I couldn't keep up, I couldn't help it. I couldn't live with myself. There were night the wind felt too cold even admits the weather. Night I couldn't sleep. Nights I couldn't close my eyes without dreaming of what had happened."
"There used to be days that I thought I was okay, or at least that I was going to be. We'd be hanging out somewhere and everything would just fit right and I would think 'it will be okay if it can just be like this forever' but of course nothing can ever stay just how it is forever."
"Days went on, I was already a dead man in a living body. knowing you, you'd say I was weak, I took the easy way out. You're right, I am weak, I did take the easy way out."
"I'm not going to ask you to understand why I killed my self Christian, I'm only asking you to move on, don't let this scar you. Also forgive me and don't forget me. Open your heart Christian."
'I'll always love you.'
Christian held the letter to his chest, crying quietly until he fell asleep.