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Suicide

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Suicide
By: Evan on 10/21/2001; 5:34 PM

Its okay to publish this.

Dick Blick couldn't take it anymore. His wife had divorced him to become a mime. His cat was eaten by his dog, who choked to death on the bones. His best friend had come to his house to visit but he had been away burying his pets. His friend had waited at the door, and due to a peculiarity of the hotdogs he had for lunch spontaneously combusted, completely burning Dick's house to the ground.

Dick then resolved himself to committing suicide. He decided that if hell existed for people who commit suicide it couldn't be any worse than what his life was at the moment. His despair ran so deep within the core of his being that he could not even conceive of the slightest possibility of improvement in the future.

He went to a high office building and opened a window. Well actually it took him about 10 minutes to get the window open because the window had not been opened in some time. He walked out onto the windowsill and jumped. He fell and as he fell he sang “The Song That Doesn’t End” to prove that stupid lamb wrong. The song would end with his death. Unfortunately, at least from Dick’s point of view, he landed on a children’s space walk that happened to be in front of the building. The inflated building cushioned his fall before popping. Fortunately no children were inside the space walk when he crashed into it. They were having a good time petting a dog that somebody had set on fire when he jumped.

Dick then decided to use poison to kill himself; he would overdose on Advil. He figured that death by a pain reliever would be a good clean painless way to go. However, as he had forgot to put a do not disturb sign on his motel room door, the maid found him and called 911. The emergency medical service pumped his stomach and he was all right except that he was really hungry now.

Determined to defeat Fate and die, he decided that he would shoot himself through the head. He bought a gun, put it to his head and shot himself. The bullet went straight through his skull, missed everything vital and exited his scalp. The noise of the gun brought the police and the EMS once again who bandaged him and resuscitated him.

He went to a library to see what sort of insight he could get into committing suicide from books. He found The Idiot's Guide to Committing Suicide and checked it out. Most of what was in the book was stuff he had already tried. One good suggestion he found was to try two different methods simultaneously. This was guaranteed to work or your money back, which unfortunately did not apply to him.

So he decided to simultaneously slit his wrists and hang himself. He slit the blood vessels and jumped off of the gallows he had built. The rope snapped, and the thump attracted his motel clerk who once again called the EMS and he was saved (or condemned to continue in life, it all depends on your point of view.)

After this Dick decided to go on living since he seemed to have no choice in the matter and attempting suicide only seemed to make it worse. He however made a mistake immediately after his resolution; he went into a coffeehouse to get a drink. Inside the fetid den of despair that was Coffee Call, his spirits sank once again. The lights in the room could not overshadow the greater darkness at work there. Mirrors reflected the grim seen of the pallid customers as if seeing them once wasn't bad enough. Apparently the wretched brews, of which there were many (like the many layers of hell in Dante's Inferno perhaps?)drained the unsuspecting occupants of life and yet drew them back for more. The floors were stained with filth but the physical grime only served to cover the deeper grime that covered the souls of the occupants of the noisome warren. Gradually Dick began to realize how horrible his life was as he downed the noxious coffee that had been brought to him by a person who was surely a demonic entity in disguise (Beezelbub perhaps, or Mephistopheles?). He remembered the old saying "If at first you don't succeed, try try again."

He decided to try and go more or less the way his friend did; he would douse himself in gasoline and light himself on fire. He poured the gasoline all over himself and lit a match. Just as he caught fire he tripped on the edge of a cheap imitation Persian rug and managed to completely smother the flames. He was still alive but now had disfiguring burns across a lot of his body.

He decided to try one more new method of death but after this he would simply cycle through the ones he'd already tried on the theory that they would eventually work. He stuck his head in a bucket of water and attempted to drown himself. All he managed to do was swallow a lot of nasty tasting motel tap water.

So he returned once again to a high office building to attempt to plummet from a window. This time he had little trouble getting the window open, as if Fate was tired of messing with him. He jumped after checking to make sure there was nothing that could possibly break his fall. On the way down he noticed that he was not alone. A woman with a large number of burns along her body and bandages on her wrists and head was falling with him.

"Hi!" Dick said rather quickly as the ground was rapidly approaching.

"Hi!" The woman said.

"So, you're trying to commit suicide too?"

"Yes, and I bet I’m finally going to succeed this time; absolutely nothing to break my fall."

"Hey if we don't end up dying, would you like to go out to dinner with me sometime?"

"Sure."

Splat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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RE: Suicide
By: Dorothy Marie on 5/1/2001; 2:20 PM

Interesting...

I am not sure if I should be horrified because a man and a woman just committed suicide (because I am definitely not horrified), or if I should laugh at the insane way the man could never kill himself until he found someone else that was going through the exact same thing. I think it's funny, but does that make me an unemotional fiend? Well, I hope not because I find it quite humerous, just like the rest of your works! :)

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RE: Suicide
By: Evan on 5/1/2001; 6:14 PM

This is what happens when my creative writing class takes a field trip to the fetid den of horrors known as Coffee call! I write a story thats humorous and yet full of despair at the same time. I can't help it, I like to make people laugh. As for the horror of it, I got to a point that I had to decide whether to write anymore and I thought it would be fun to end the story with the word Splat!!! so I just had him meet someone nice and then die. Ooh now I need to write a happier story to make up for the sad ending. I guess this story could really be considered dark comedy. Now I've got to get to editing my stories for my portfolio, and I'm also creating an entire world for a series of stories. Ooh is my plate full.

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RE: Suicide
By: Katy Kat on 6/30/2001; 12:26 AM

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA!!!

I actually wrote a story like this many years ago, but it was about a family of frogs and had some rather interesting twists in it. Great, I love it, just the sort of weird almost sick thing that I would write. Just warms my heart over thinking about my couldve been prodigy!

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RE: Suicide
By: Sharon Marlene Murphy on 11/15/2007; 2:31 PM

Have you been mixing you medication "Again????" lol

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