Alternate Ending

It has been hell. Months of this loneliness, feeling like an outsider all the time. Solace only found in the company of one, someone as emotionally damaged as me. Not enough though, never enough. Alone every night, other than for the regular one-night stands bereft of any emotions, any feelings but lust, knowing that it's just sex, knowing that the majority of them are cheating on someone else… not caring. Not daring, never daring to look for a real relationship, the fear of another rejection now worse than the fear of death.

Trapped in this situation. No way out, no help offered. Help asked for, refused. Friends within certain constraints, but a friend in need is a pest. Poor judgement at it's most obvious of course. I am your friend as long as it's not too inconvenient.

No surge of bitterness at the thoughts as in recent days. I feel calm now, kind of numb. After all the frantic, frenetic stress, anger, bitterness of the last few weeks, it comes as a relief. If I could feel like this all the time, so focused, not caring about what was happening around me, it wouldn't have had to come to this. I've thought about it for a while, everyone does sooner or later, I suppose. Thinking about it doesn't really help though. Making the final decision, that's the key. Yes, I am going to do this. No backing down now.

An alternate ending, no peace and love and happily ever after now.

Numb. Anaesthetised. No need to care anymore about what is going to be someone else's problem.

Fingers fumbling the knot on the rope, a length of orange coloured nylon washing line. Glancing back at the diagram on the web site, searching for the next step, finding it, my fingers closing confidently over the knot again, manipulating it into position. Done, and next step. Winding the rope back around itself, 12 turns, slowly lining them up. Bending the rope and grasping the end, tucking it in and pulling it through. All done. Holding it aloft, appraising my work and smiling. Exactly like the picture on the web site, if not for the garish orange colour.

Trimming off the end of the rope, collecting the few stray fibres and tossing them in the bin. Holding the end of the rope over the lighter and watching it slowly melt together, cooling rapidly as the heat is taken away. Perfect.

Coiling the rope around my forearm, I walk out onto the balcony, raise my leg and give the railing a mighty kick with the sole of my foot, every ounce of my weight behind it. No movement. Nothing. It might just be the only part of this whole apartment block that has been built to any sort of quality standard I muse idly. Looping the end of the rope around the railing, feeding the end back around and double-knotting it. I yank sharply on it, once, twice. No real slippage, just the knot settling into place. I contemplate the knot and add another to it, pulling once to tighten it. That should be enough I reason, if the others slip, that should tighten the third knot.

Checking the length again. Too short could be catastrophic, the end of my attempt. Slow strangulation interrupted by a well-meaning saviour. Hospital, more debt, counseling, the shocked faces of friends who would all suddenly want to be there, want explanations. It's long enough though. Maybe too long, decapitation isn't really my intention, but it doesn't matter particularly.

So calm. So, so calm as long as I don't lose momentum and stall. I love this calmness, it's comforting, there is nobody in the world but me and for once the solitude doesn't feel lonely. For once in my life, I am living right here in the moment, I am doing what I want, and nobody is going to stop me.

Slipping the noose over my head, around my neck, removing my glasses and placing them on the table. Both hands on the rope, on the noose, tightening it, positioning it carefully, knot at the base of my skull, the top of my spine. Stepping first onto the chair, and then out over the railing to the pale concrete ledge.

Last chance to change your mind, the thought catches me by surprise after the certainty of the last few hours. I try to ignore it, but the calmness is deserting me, white-hot trails of rage and bitterness burning their way across my consciousness, searing through my brain. No! I stamp down hard on my raging emotions, fighting for control, for this one fucking moment, this one thing that I will do on my own fucking terms. Nothing will take this from me, NOTHING!

Closing my eyes, breathing deeply, slowly dragging my feelings back under control. My heart is pounding. I can feel the blood pounding in my temples. My calmness destroyed, torn asunder by the surge of emotion, but something better in it's place now; contempt. Contempt for this world, for the mindless sheep following orders every day, surviving, plodding along, achieving nothing but the continued existence of the human race. Sucked in by the anaesthetic of competitive spectator sports, television, computer games. Sheep, dragged along by their corporate overlords, existence merely for the purpose of consumption. Life made bearable by those you share it with, the lonely stepping to their deaths off buildings, balconies, bridges.

I close my eyes, whisper "fuck you" to any deity that may finally be listening, and step off the ledge.