Death... Is an interesting thing

Death… is an interesting thing. Some people would be unfazed if they were to see a dead body. Others, on the other hand, may run, scream, hide, or faint. Death’s cold yet welcoming hands will envelope all of us at some point, and we all know this. There is no immortality, no forever, and no avoiding death. Murder is merely a way to speed up the process. Perhaps, it’s all destiny, and there was no speeding up. The way i see it, murder is acceptable. Many of my peers think this way as well, but the consensus thinks the other way. Bunch of idiotic blights if you ask me.

When I saw it, I paused. Blood, flesh, and the man standing there, his wide eyes pointed straight at me while holding the blood coated knife. I never expected to walk into my apartment, only to be greeted by my roommates in-progress suicide attempt. The knife slid across his throat with horrible ease as the warm, red liquid covered our home. He noticed me, and seemed more scared for me than himself. His knees gave and he fell hard on the cheap wooden flooring of which we had lived on top of for 5 years. I was shaking, too scared to approach his motionless body. Had my old friend really just ended himself? What caused this? Why would he do this? Could I have stopped it if I came home sooner?

Mind filled with questions, I didn’t even notice the most crucial effect it had on me. I fell to the ground, and never shed a tear. This moment would change me forever, I would never shed a single tear after this. A trait my old friend had since the loss of his father in the 3rd grade. Now this trait has become mine. I stood to my feet, looking for the mark of death. He had been a small star on his pinky finger, which he hid with a small black ring he bought on a school field trip. My mark was nowhere to be found, maybe he wasn’t dead after all? I snapped back to my senses and realized my roommate was still lying on the ground, bleeding out. My eyes widened and I swiped for my phone, inputting the three numbers I had forgotten about.

Day past, then weeks, then months. Food ran low, the bills ran high, and I was somewhere in between. I opened the fridge for the tenth time, almost expecting something delicious to just appear. I sighed and shut the fridge before staring at the mark on the floor. No mater how many times i mopped, that haunting red stain wouldn’t go away. The shrill sound of my phone ringing drug my eyes away from the floor. The bright screen illuminated the dark room, and on it read the name of someone I had forgotten. I cleared my throat and answered the phone.

“...hello?” Her voice was lovely to hear again.

“Oh, sorry, hello… Stacy”

“Hey! Nobody's been able to contact you since, well, you know…” So she knew about that, well, of course she did. Word spreads fast in a small town like ours.

“Yea…” i had barely used my voice since everything happened, my throat hurt more with every syllable.

“You have to leave that apartment someday, so let’s make today that day!”

“ ...That’d be… nice, actually.”

“Great! I’ll be over in thirty, love ya.”

Beep