Adam Moon: Assisted Suicide

His mother approached his casket again but it was the same as last time. She cried and pled and spoke barely discernible words to the heavens. She kissed him on the cheek and then his brothers led her away and out of the funeral home.

He missed her already.

He sensed several people approach to silently pay their last respects and when they were done, the room went deathly quiet. The funeral was over.

He wondered just what the hell had happened to Sarah. Why was she absent?

Then he worried that she’d committed suicide after his corpse was discovered in their bathroom. Would she be waiting for him on the other side? How was he going to pass over to the other side? Why was his consciousness still earthbound?

But then he felt a presence and he could smell her scent. She had come late. She was probably too grief stricken to be around others at this lowest point in her life.

He felt a pressure on his eyelids and watched as his vision brightened. She opened his eyes fully and then stepped back. He could see her face, but she wasn’t overwhelmed with grief. She looked pissed.

She said to him, “Brett, you’ve hurt me for the last time. You could have left me at any time. You could have spared me the grief of watching you spiral into depression and multiple suicides, but you stayed and you forced me to take the journey with you. Well, I’m getting off the Brett train now. I have saved your life for the last time. That’s right, you’re not dead. I staved the blood loss when I found you in the bathroom. But my mind cracked. I’d had enough of your crap. You were barely hanging on when the paramedics arrived. The other nurses and doctors had no pity left to offer me anymore. Then I had an idea. Why not simulate your funeral so you would know just how devastating your suicide would be to your loved ones. I administered a paralytic and a cocktail of drugs, and with the help of a couple of close friends, you were officially pronounced dead.”

Brett’s heart leapt for joy. He was horrified that Sarah would resort to such drastic measures, but he was alive and well. Maybe he’d give life one last shot?

Sarah finished with, “I’m not your Florence Nightingale anymore. Goodbye Brett,” and then she stepped away from his casket.

He heard her muffled voice speaking with someone at the other end of the room.

What the fuck was she up to? She’d made her point. He would give life another try because she’d saved him. She’d shown him the damage his suicide did to others and although he knew it was far too harsh a punishment, he appreciated it. He was a changed man.

He heard the doors to the funeral home open and then close and he knew she was gone.

He wondered how long the paralytic in his bloodstream would last. He wondered what his mom and his brothers would say when he showed up for Christmas dinner and said, “Surprise!”

The old man came into view. He looked exactly as Brett had envisioned. He was hatchet faced and grim looking.

The old man said, “You’ve hurt that fine young lady for the last time. The ovens should be hot enough now. It’s time to make your suicide official.”

As the old man wheeled his body out of the room Brett thought, well this is turning out to be a weird intervention.

Assisted Suicide copyright 2013 Adam Moon

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