Deep down, there was no one that could actually hear his scream of help, a need of quick action of saving someone's unwanted life. It was purely involuntary, at least that's what he thought when he decided to put the dot at the end of the sentence. It just happened and it was not something in which you could pick the person at fault as a good reason to blame for such tragedy.
Once he opened his mouth it was all over. Splashed into water, somewhere in the ocean. The first two things to do is not to panic and swim back up and gasp for air. In case you can't swim this fast, you'd have to hold your breath for a few seconds.
He didn't even bother finding out solutions. It would've missed the whole point. He still tried to gasp for air, not thinking about it twice. He started to choke, then overcome panic appeared. And finally it could be possible to say that his suicide attempt was tragic.
They spent more than two months on trying to find the boy's body, trying to give back parts of him to his parents so they could hold I funeral, but it was pointless. Everything about him was gone. Not even a goodbye letter had he left, just a small sandwhich paper, slightly used which it was found by his younger brother, and on it was written some numbers that at that time were insignificant.
'42'
— He looked around the room, checking from time to time in case his parents would've bursted in his and his brother's room and catch him using the dead's sibling personal things. Not that it matters, anyway.
After the incident, they moved out the city immediately and started a new life. The parents never mentioned his name again. They acted like he never existed into their life. They had always been a happy family.
At school, the younger never told anyone about this horrific event. When he invited friends over and they'd ask who's the other guy in the framed pictures, he'd say "I don't know" and move on.
He spun around a few times, trying to find that old overused paper and rethink — that was his hobby ever since. But he would never forget. How could he? 42 was his brother's favourite number.
"Maybe it was just his thought at that time," he said out loud and sighed. "That's definitely what a suicidal person would think."
2023-02-14
YOU ARE READING
Night Thoughts
PoetryBefore we begin... Watch how the little becomes big. Watch as the wind flows his mind and thoughts and how he becomes the one who didn't, couldn't. Watch how the progress goes back and forth and how the stiffness kicked in the first few pages of em...
