Glass II

He wanted to reach out to them.

His phone buzzed in his hand as colorful, bright bubble after bubble popped up on his messenger app. His family was discussing the suicide of a famous person.

He should have expected it. He was the one that had brought it up.

"I said it out loud once..." he read.

He wanted to.

The keyboard was lit up, waiting form some sort of human feedback. But his thumbs stood frozen over the glass.

Message after message. Buzz after buzz.

The sensation tickled his fingers, but barely shook the white-knuckle-tight grip he had on the device.

So many thoughts swirled throughout his head. Too many, all at once pouring into his consciousness with force - he had grown accustomed to it, learned to expect it, but had never mastered it.

He thought about all the things he wanted to say. He felt their love and their concern and it was suffocating, even through the screen. He knew they were keenly aware of his lack of input in the discussion. And still they sent text message after text message back and forth, presumably for his benefit.

"I said it out loud once and your stepmom helped me work through it. I am really fortunate to be married to her" his father sent.

"Just talk if you ever need to" his step-mom replied.

"Yes please. I've had my moments and issues as well. Got help and look where I am today. Love you all" came from his aunt.

"Please talk. Even though ur talk makes no sense. To any one else" from his grandmother.

His thumbs made no movement.

Thoughts and images tore through his mind, cutting, embedding, like shrapnel. Usually it was over by now. Usually he could stop it. Usually he never went this far back. He kept fighting kept running kept hiding but it was relentless until finally

and then there it was, a glittering image in his mind's eye, the flash of nickelplate a sudden heaviness he tasted metal in his mouth

He threw the phone. Violently.

It smashed into the pillow at the head of his bed where it rested, as if by habit.

He went outside. He wanted to scream. Instead he lit his cigarillo.