Remorse and regret
Ashen of Meaning
One day, a man named Zedrick sat on a bench, smoking a cigarette as he watched the sunset dip below the horizon. His eyes looked tired like he hadn’t slept in days.
He stood up and started walking home. Upon arriving, he locked the door behind him and threw himself on the bed.
The next day, while walking to buy groceries, he stopped beside a church.
He stared at it. At the people entering.
And he felt disgusted.
Despite being raised Catholic, he despised religion seeing it as nothing more than a tool to manipulate people. But he ignored the thought and continued walking.
Inside the grocery store, as he picked out supplies, a voice suddenly called out:
> “Zedrick!”
He turned and saw one of his old friends from elementary school.
> “Dude, long time no see! How’ve you been?”
Zedrick stared at her, uninterested, but forced himself to speak.
> “I’m fine.”
His friend chuckled.
> “You’re still so simple and nonchalant. Don’t tell me you’re still the shy, introverted guy I remember?”
Zedrick sighed, staring for a moment before muttering:
> “Shut up and mind your own damn business.”
She laughed, but her smile faded quickly.
> “By the way… have you heard what happened to Kenneth?”
Zedrick froze. That name it belonged to his best friend from elementary.
They always laughed together. Hung out. Teased each other.
> “No… what happened?” he asked.
His friend’s voice lowered.
> “He… passed away. Hanged himself. Cause of Stress and depression…”
Zedrick’s eyes widened but he turned away, continued picking up supplies, paid at the counter, and walked home.
On the way, his eyes began to tear but no tears fell.
That night, he sat alone at a small table in his dark apartment. In front of him sat a cupcake with a single candle flickering weakly.
It was his birthday.
But it didn’t feel like it.
The room was silent.
The flame barely lit the walls.
He stared.
Alone.
Isolated.
He hated everything people, the world, even God.
Maybe… it would be easier to end it all.
But then
his phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number:
> “Kenneth left a video for you. You should come to the funeral.”
Zedrick stared at the message. Then blew out the candle.
He drove to the burial site.
He hadn’t seen Kenneth in seven years, but not showing up felt… wrong.
The place was crowded. People crying. Friends. Family.
After some time, Kenneth’s parents approached him.
> “You must be Zedrick,” his mother said gently. “He told us so much about you. Said you were his best friend. Always made him laugh. Always had his back.”
She held his hand tightly, then handed him a USB drive.
> “Thank you for making our son happy.”
Back at home, Zedrick sat silently at his laptop. His eyes hollow. His hands shaking.
He inserted the USB. One file. One video.
He clicked.
Kenneth’s face appeared on the screen tired, but smiling.
> “Hey Zedrick… remember me? It’s Kenneth.”
> “We used to hang out in elementary. Teased each other. Had each other’s backs. If you’re watching this… I guess I’m already gone.”
> “The reason I did it doesn’t matter anymore. But this video is my last message for you.”
> “Zedrick, I saw you as a brother, more than a friend. You always made me laugh when I was at my lowest.”
> “I don’t know how you’re doing now… or what you even look like after all these years. But I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re happy.”
> “But if you’re not… please don’t make the same mistake I did.”
> “I thought death would free me. And maybe it has. But you? You’re still here. You still have something.”
> “Stop searching for the world’s meaning. There is none.”
> “That’s why… you must create your own.”
> “Please, Zedrick. Live life your own way.”
> “I’m sorry. Thank you. Goodbye.
Zedrick stared at the screen, frozen.
Then, without a word, he walked outside and sat on the grass. The sky was clear. The mountains stood in the distance. Forests wayed in the breeze.
And for the first time in years…
he cried.
Kenneth’s words hit him like a knife poisoned with healing.
The next day, Zedrick walked into a church. Not because he found faith again… but because he found something else:
A reason to live morally. Quietly. Gently.
He became more talkative. He helped strangers. Fed stray dogs. Smiled at people who didn’t smile back.
He still hated how the world worked.
But he no longer believed everyone should suffer like he did.
He had walked through hell.
But finally…
he felt something again.
Happiness.
To live is to suffer and to survive is to find meaning in the suffering.
