Hurt

He looked out over the city night from the balcony of his high-rise penthouse apartment. The city lights flickered in a multitude of colors, pushing back the darkness and out shining the brilliance of the star filled sky. Below, the ant like nightlife restlessly moved through a city that never sleeps.

Walking back into his apartment, he was slightly surprised that music was still coming from his overpriced stereo systems. Lost in thought, his break to watch the sunset lasted for some unknown amount of time; he cracked a brief smile when he realized what was playing in the room. It was a simple song of suicide and no regrets.

He walked to the stereo and turned it off. A brief chuckle broke the now silent room. He couldn’t believe how much time and money he wasted building and upgrading his entertainment center. All that time he could have used actually living. All those days he could have spent with them. It didn’t matter anymore because he was going to fix it. He was going to take care of everything.

Walking to the edge of the bed, he opened his robe and it slowly fell off his body. His well-chiseled body was a history of pain and torment with more scars than even he could count. Self inflicted testimonies of the constant, unending emptiness and emotional pain he felt. They were simply unsuccessful attempts at covering up or eliminating that which he didn’t want to feel.

Growing up he did everything he could to take care of his body for the most part. He always had a thing about scars and would often mess with healing wounds knowing that it would leave a scar. It was nothing big to him, but he never used to deliberately mutilate his body. That was until everything changed on that day. Despite medication and therapy and everything else he couple think of, the emotional pain, depression, and emptiness he felt would not go away. If you cannot get rid of it, why not feel something different. Physical pain was the key. Enough pain would trigger an endorphin rush and you just would not feel anything. Nothing was always better than what he was feeling.

There was no rush as he took the clothes off the bed and dressed in an all black suit; even his undershirt and tie were the deepest shade of black. He always wore black and it did not matter what the weather was like. One summer his black attire helped land him in the hospital with dehydration. That was how he met her, the love of his life.

He wiped the tears away as his thoughts drifted to her. There was no time for that he thought and quickly finished getting dressed.

The cold night air cut through him to the bone when he walked back out onto the balcony. Taking another look out over the city, he quietly said a goodbye.

He was falling before he knew it and he barely remembered jumping. To his surprise, what people said was true. His life started to flash before his eyes, but it was not what he wanted. He didn’t want to remember, he wanted to forget. He wanted to leave it all behind; remembering and feeling nothing.

He saw his life as it blurred by in his mind. He was shown early childhood moments he never remembered were there. Not only did he see the events, but also experienced the feels and emotions he had. He was disturbed to feel very little joy as he grew up. From baby to child to teen to young adult to adult. His life flew by in a blur, until after his college years. Things got clearer until he remembered that fateful summer he met her.

The day was a usually hot summer day and he had been out in his typical all black clothes. He still doesn’t really know what happened. While walking the streets the heat was getting to him. Before he realized how bad off he was, he woke up in a hospital room with an IV is his arm.

The nurse came in, saw that he was awake and explained to him what was going on. He didn’t hear one word of it. He felt like he was under some kind of spell and could not take his eyes off her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It was love at first sight.

They were married within a few months and had a son the following year. They had the occasional ups and downs, but he was the happiest he had ever been. After four years of marriage, they were expecting again. He thought this was some of the greatest news. Nine months later she went into labor. He put their son in their family car and they drove off to the hospital.

It was just past midnight and it was one of those cloudless, full moon nights. It was only a short ten minute trip and they would be there. He had not counted on the drunken truck driver and his diesel. They had the right of way as the diesel went through the four way intersection and collided into the families small four door.

When the police and ambulance arrived on the scene, the truck driver was wondering around the crash site in an alcoholic haze; he still was not aware as to what had happened. Paramedics ran over to what was once a car. It looked like an aluminum can someone had crushed. They were convinced that the car’s occupants were already dead. There was no conceivable way that anyone could live through a crash like this. But he did. He was the only one. Not only had he lived, he left in the ambulance and the doctors could not find a scratch on him.

People kept talking about how it was a miracle. How he was blessed. The thought made him angry. There was no miracle, no God to perform such things. All he cared about was ripped away from him. There was no reason for him to live. He felt he was the least deserving to live. Why him? If it was miracle, it was a cruel joke. From that moment on he is an emotional wreck.

He couldn’t remember the last he was happy after that. He went through long periods of sever depression and self loathing. It had been a long trip of medications, therapy, and even a stay in a mental institute. He took it out on everything and then he turned to taking it out on his body. He grew sick of it all. He wanted to be with her, with them.

The last thing he saw was her in his mind’s eye and his trip came to an end with a smile finally etched on h