One Cigarette Before I go


The dark silhoutte walked towards the dark forest beside the lakes, carrying a rope with a hangmans knot. He carefully made this rope with his own hands, every strand carefully and skillfully woven it to its ultimate tightness.

He walked slowly and solemnly as the ground crunched beneath his feet, his tears dripping along the ground. His journey to oblivion was near its end.

He started to remember bits and pieces of his life, the mixed up issues and hurt thrown around his mind. The joyful moments also but they were less. The pain outweighed the good.

He pulled from his pocket a box of cigarettes, one left in the packet, his last action before leaving the world he called the Savage Garden. He put the noose around his neck which freed his hands for use.

He took out his lighter.

He walked on as he took the single cigarette out, a flick of his thumb and the lighter sparked a flame. illuminating his isolated face against the thick darkness that surrounded him.

He was nearly there as he puffed on his cigarette, he put the lighter away. He was going deeper into the forest to his impending freedom. As he delved into his pocket he felt the crumpling of paper, his last note, his last cry of rage against the world written on a piece of paper.

The rope dragging behind him weighed him down but he didnt care, he sucked on the cigarette feeling the smoke warm his throat. A throat that would struggle later on.

He was there finally, the tree he had chosen weeks back. Near this tree was a memorial grave to a baby, he often thought if he died would he see that baby. He sniffed at the thought, that baby must be lonlier than he.

He climbed the tree carefully and silently, the rope weighing him down, his thoughts began to race and he wondered when would he be discovered. It didnt matter. Not to him.

He thought of how useless he was to everyone and everything, how the world turned its back on him and he closed himself off

Before he knew it he was high up in the tree, a thick branch that was sturdy enough for him. He tied the rope around and around and made sure it was tight. He sat and gazed at the moonlight view. Cars whizzing by in the distance, the lakes behind him.

This is it he thought, the end of his 35 years on earth, what had he achieved? Failed relationships, a burden upon everyone, the pain started to form through tears in his eyes. He sobbed with his hand covering his eyes, his hand pouring watery tears to the ground 10 feet below. He started to hit himself in the head in frustration, nothing would console him.

The pain was too much right now, he calmly relaxed and stared with watery eyes. And then.

He dropped. The rope following his plummet, suddenly the rope snapped and the deadmans knot snapped, there was no struggle. He died and the pain was gone.

A silent forest with a silhouette floating grimly in the air. A baby was heard laughing and cooing near the tree, they were not lonely any more.