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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1710010-Christmas-noir
by Cobber
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Tragedy · #1710010
A man tries to commit suicide on Christmas Eve this is a recount of the subsequent events.
Christmas Noir.





It seemed like the logical thing to do really. I saw the pill bottle, reached for it and downed all the pills with three handfuls.

I lit a cigarette, and pondered for a while on what would come next. I felt a little excited; I have no idea why to be honest, perhaps because it would be over soon?

I finished my cigarette, and walked into Moose’s room and sat on the floor near his bed; hoping—well I do not know what I was hoping exactly—maybe he would look at me, realize how much he loved me. Perhaps say something kind so I would then immediately run to the bathroom and throw-up all the pills and be saved. But no such luck. As I sat there on his floor I am not allowed to sit on his bed, it is only a few inches of the ground, so I do not feel too degraded about this, but I still couldn’t help feeling like a dog; a pathetic dog that is starving for his master’s attention. Is that what I’ve been reduced to, a replacement for his dead dog?

Looking at him, my mind racing, wanting to touch him, tell him what I just did, he glanced over his book and barked: Can’t I be alone, why can’t you just leave me alone?

Ok.

I ignominiously stood up and walked out of his room with my tail between my legs and my heart broken.

I can be such a fool sometimes.

Back in the living room crying, I lit another cigarette. It was clear to me now that I was not loved, and what just happened was not only degrading but also proof that I am not wanted here. He would wake up and I wouldn’t. What then? Who knows who cares? I was done, tired and wanted nothing any longer.

Go to sleep and never wake up.

But I did wake up; I was convulsing uncontrollably and was very dizzy.

What is wrong with me? Oh yes, you are overdosing on a three-month supply of anti-depressants you fool.

I lay there thinking this will pass and I will go back to sleep and soon this will be over, done dead.

But that was not the case. I awoke to the same motions.

Fuck.

I got up and tried to walk around, tried to think of what I could do. I could lie back down and go through the motions of this and hope to fall asleep and die, or I could wake up Moose.

I chose to lie back down. My legs were jolting like crazy; my eyes were having trouble focusing on anything.

I noticed in the corner of the room near the ceiling a dark shadow. I watched it and it looked like a giant bat or something with wings. As I watched it, it seemed to grow, and with a blink it spread across the entire wall. I was frightened. What the fuck is that? Is it the Devil come for my soul?

I got up and wobbled to Moose’s room as quickly as I could. Every step was more like a jolt rather than a movement, like a spasmodic robot.

Moose I have done something very stupid. I have taken all my pills and I feel scared.

Moan. Grunt. Well you better call an ambulance was his have asleep response. He actually just rolled over.

Getting even more dizzy, and unable to stand any longer, I returned to the living room to lie back down on the sofa. Flashes of light flickered under my eyelids. I felt like the room was slanting. I could no longer move, speak or even see.

How long it was before Moose came to check on me I do not know. Hours, minutes, seconds? I was gone. There but not there.

I could hear sounds but could not see a thing. I heard Moose say something like that was stupid, now I am going to have brain damage. So sympathetic he is.

Twitch, twitch, why can’t I stop twitching it really is becoming tiresome.

Finally however, paramedics arrived. I heard them yelling out my name, poking and attaching things to me. How I got up on the gurney is still a mystery. Did they carry me, or did I walk myself?

I felt them pushing me down the long hallway to the slowest elevator in the city.

Going down. Going out. I felt the cold, I felt the bumpidy bump of being hoisted into the ambulance.

Why can’t I see, why won’t my eyes open? Where’s Moose?

On went the oxygen mask. Moose are you with me? I’m afraid.

He was. All the way, but I was out, gone.

Hours, or years went by, but I finally did wake up. A blurred gentleman nurse was asking me questions. What’s your name? Do you know what day it is? I knew so he was pleased and left me alone to try and sleep. That’s all I really wanted. Time was no longer relevant, every time I closed my eyes it seemed hours went by.

Another blurred nurse came in and was telling me to be very still while she tried to stick a needle into my arm to extract blood. That in itself was an amazing struggle. Don’t tell me lady; tell it to my body, it’s not listening to me either.

I remember asking her why won’t my legs stop twitching. Which she succinctly replied maybe it was from all the pills I had taken. Oh yes thank you I completely forgot.

I finally went back to sleep, only to be awakened by yet another nurse forcing me to drink something.

What is it? I asked.

Its charcoal water and you need to drink it now.

I was dying of thirst so I took a big gulp, but quench my thirst it did not. I can’t drink this I told her. And her response was that she could have someone administer a tube down my throat.

No wait, I can drink it.

However, I did not drink it. I fell back to sleep. Moose was there when I had awoken, sitting on a chair beside my bed. He was a blur like everyone else. I wish I had my glasses.

I remember him saying something about my socks before I fell asleep again.

The first gentleman nurse once again disturbed me. Why can’t I just get some sleep, I will be fine, I just need to sleep.

He asked me the same questions as before, what’s my name? What day is it? When was I born?

With all answered correctly, he left and I could go back to sleep.

Nope. Mean charcoal water nurse walked in demanding that I drink the still full bottle of the black water, which was like drinking dust. As soon as it reached my throat, my throat would immediately close, and I would start to gag. She left, confident that I would drink it all in her absence, but she’s a fool. I went back to sleep again. When I awoke Moose was removing my socks, and replacing them with new ones that he went out and purchased.

How strange I thought. I’m possibly dying and he’s making sure my socks are new. I guess that is why I love him. His quirky way of showing he cares.

But I still had this full bottle of charcoal water to drink and I knew he was not going to let me get away with not drinking it. He was complaining to the nurses as to why I was given it so late.

Drink this he demanded. Traitor!

I pleaded to him that I could not drink anymore, and I think he felt sympathetic because he didn’t make me. But mean nurse came back and wouldn’t leave until I finished all of the putrid shit.

What a sight I must have been; black all over my lips and chin.

Moose was still with me, and we were alone. I’m sorry I told him. He turned away from me and silently wept. He doesn’t know I had seen him; I closed my eyes and pretended to be falling asleep when he looked back at me. At that moment I realized what a truly selfish act suicide is. No matter how he made me feel, or how bad he had treated me, he did not deserve this. He did not deserve to have this put on him.

With all the charcoal water consumed, I was aloud to sleep without any interruptions. Only now and then was I awakened by Moose wiping my chin clean of all the black dribble.

Moose was gone when I woke up again. Another blurred woman came in to talk to me she was a psychiatrist. I don’t remember much of what was said, she asked me all the logical questions one would ask someone who had just tried to take their own life. The problem was that I had no logical answer. I have no idea why I did it.

Moose had again arrived. He had B with him. I was so happy to see them both. B came over to me and gave me a hug.

Look at his eyes, Moose told B. B acknowledged this with an all-knowing smile. B has been through this kind of thing before. He is a rock. And I am glad that he is a rock for me.

A doctor came in and asked them to leave for a moment so that he may speak to me in private. I was a little frightened by this. Why did he want to speak with me in private? Was I going to die despite their efforts, despite the fucking charcoal water?

But I was fine. The blood work showed that all my vitals were ok.

Moose and B were so relieved to hear this news. Moose even held my hand for a brief moment, until the lady psychiatrist whom I spoke with earlier interrupted us.

Now I don’t really remember most of the conversation—in fact I remember none of it. I was however, made aware that I was being transferred to the hospitals psyche ward.

Great!

Like I said I remember nothing of the conversation, but one thing was clear, and that was, that this was voluntary, but I really had no say in the matter.

Not too soon after she left, I was wheeled to another room, to wait before I had to go to the psyche ward. That was embarrassing. Having to be wheeled past all the blurry doctors and nurses and all of the other blurry people, all of whom probably knew what I had done. There goes the idiot who tried to kill himself on Christmas Eve of all days. I felt like such a cliché.

Eventually I was brought to the psyche ward. It was a small room with cement walls that were painted beige. A beach scene painting hung on one wall. That was comforting I suppose. I wish I had my glasses.

The room, I immediately noticed had no door handles on the inside. Instead they had electric locks that could only be un-locked by a special key card.

Moose and B were trying to make my situation more glamorous you might say.

They were commenting on how the room was very 'Hollywood' and that I was getting the V.I.P. treatment. I was a celebrity. I think Moose even told one of the nurses that. But I might be wrong; he could have been talking about B, because B actually is.

By this time it was now Christmas day, or actually Christmas evening. And Moose and B were getting hungry. Poor B. The plan for the evening was that the three of us were going to have Christmas dinner in a nice restaurant. B even made the reservations.

But I shot that plan to hell didn’t I?

So instead, we were spending Christmas in a cell. But by God B was going to have a turkey dinner if he had to kill someone. So he and Moose went to get food, and I was left alone.

Earlier this would have been fine by me because I just needed sleep. But now, being in this cement cell I didn’t want to be left alone. Yes I still wanted to sleep, but I would have preferred that Moose and B would be there watching me so that when I awoke they’d be there, and B would say: “Oh look Mr. Moose, Prince Michael is awake. Excellent raging! Prince Michael, how are you feeling?”

But they were still not back when I woke up.

A short nurse came in to talk to me. She was telling me about how taking all those pills could have done serious damage to my liver and kidneys. And that I was lucky that I was young and healthy and no damage was done, and to think about that if I did this again I might not be so lucky. I might have to have a shit bag or something, and being a good-looking young man, did I really want that embarrassment?

What?

She also told me to expect some withdrawal as all the medication had been absorbed. And I might start to feel restless and irritable.

After she was finished chastising me, I asked her if she could remove the I.V. needle from my arm. But when she started to, I wished I hadn’t.

She was trying to be careful but that wasn’t helping. The needle was stuck in my arm and covered with what I can only describe as super industrial tape. As she slowly started removing the tape, I felt my skin and arm hair being ripped off as well.

How about you pull out the needle from my arm first, then just tear the tape off quickly I told her, instead of torturing me slowly with your incompetence.

Fuck that was painful. And she was right, I was beginning to feel irritated.

I went back to sleep after that. My brain felt disoriented and unattached. Every time I turned my head this way or that, I could feel my brain sliding around inside my skull.

B and Moose finally came back and had brought with them some food for me. I wasn’t hungry however, but Moose made me eat it anyway.

It was turkey with stuffing, some mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables—pretty well what you’d expect to have at a real Christmas dinner.

I wish I had my glasses. I was beginning to get very irritated that I could not see anything but blurry objects. There is nothing worse than being blind in a strange environment. I felt very vulnerable.

There was chatting between the three of us. They were telling me how they met a celebrity singer at the restaurant, I did not know who she was so did not get excited. And they were telling me how great their waitress was, and how I have to meet her. But I remember nothing more really.

It was getting late, and Moose had been awake this whole time and was getting exhausted, so they needed to leave, but would be back first thing in the morning.

I had no idea what time it was. And after sleeping for what seemed like days, I was no longer tired. So that made the night alone in the cell even more irritating.

I wanted to leave; I felt fine enough to be let go. And as soon as that thought occurred to me, I became incensed by it. And the realization of where I was hit me like a kick in the stomach. I’m in a psyche ward. I tried to kill myself. They are not going to let me leave any time soon.

Fuck! And I had no idea what I was going to tell my mother. It was Christmas and I hadn’t even called her. I did not want her to find out about this.

When I was finally able to fall asleep again, I was awakened by a blurry black woman who was really nice, but whom I immediately despised for waking me up. She was a nurse and just needed to check my blood pressure.

In the morning, the short nurse who gave me the shit bag speech, came in and told me that Moose had phoned. I got out of bed and blindly stumbled into the hall where the phone was.

I still had no idea what time it was. Moose had told me that it was a 7:45am.

He said that he would be by around 10:00am. I told him to bring me some clothes and my glasses.

About a half hour later, a man came in to speak with me. He was a psychiatrist. We spoke briefly about my life, and why I did what I did. After my night of panic and worry about having to stay here, I was surprised and relieved when he told me that I could go home today.

After he left I hurried to the phone to call Moose, and told him to bring a coat and my shoes, that I was able to leave today.

Now I repeat, I told him that I was able to leave today! I just want to make that clear.

After I hung up the phone I went back to me room and sat on the bed and waited…and waited.

Two hours later, the short nurse came in and told me that I had to sit out in the hall because the room was needed for another patient.

What?

So there I was sitting out in the hall in my pajamas and couldn’t see a Goddamn thing. I was beginning to get very anxious.

I asked the nurse while she was taking my blood pressure again what time it was. It was now 1:00pm.

Where the fuck is Moose?

There was a girl wondering back and forth down the hall, to and fro from her room to the nurses’ station. Babbling on about how she lost yet another tooth brush, and needed a new one.

She kept trying to speak to me about some nonsense of why they won’t let her leave. And after trying to ignore her for a half hour I can see why they won’t.

I sat there trying my hardest not lose it and start smashing chairs, when I heard the most wonderful sound. It was B. Finally they are here and I can leave.

I saw B in the nurses’ station, but did not see Moose. Where the hell is he? Now I was going to lose it. My skeleton felt like it was trying to tear out of my skin.

So I’m freaking out and B’s nerves were also edgy and we are trying to have a conversation as calmly as we can, but crazy girl is standing in her doorway talking to no one in particular. And I couldn’t hear what B was saying and could not stay calm any longer. So I turned to the girl, and told her to shut the fuck up, and go back into her room.

I think I made her cry, but at that point I didn’t care and neither did B. In fact we were joking about how fragile our nerves had become, and how did we get like this?



So you do remember that I had told Moose that I was able to leave today right? Well that was at 8:00am and it was now 2:00pm and finally in walks Moose carrying a few bags.

In one bag he had a change of clothes, a toothbrush, a new razor, some shaving cream and some new toothpaste. All in which he went shopping for, while I was here waiting.

In the other bag was a small digital camera—that he also bought that day—to secretly film me in my despondency.

What is all this? I told you I get to go home today. He was dumbfounded.

Apparently the night before, Moose was speaking with the psychiatrist, whom I had spoken with in the morning, and was trying to convince him to keep me in longer.

Fucker!

Well ha! I don’t have to stay so let’s go!

But Moose likes to postulate all of the attention in any situation on to himself, so we could not go just yet.

The girl I had yelled at earlier poked her head out and said something. And Moose not one to pass up the chance to talk to someone he might find interesting began talking to her.

By this time I was already dressed and ready to go. But Moose was enjoying getting to know this girl—who was by no means interesting. I believe that Moose was trying to stall for time. Hoping that if we waited the doctor would change his mind and I would have to stay.



Yes ladies and gentlemen that is the kind of boyfriend I have. One who would rather me be locked up in a mental hospital than at his apartment, where his space is far more sacrosanct than love or happiness. As long as I was safe and healthy, and he could go home alone, wake up alone, go to bed alone and have his fucking computer alone, then things were good.

Again I can be such a fool sometimes.

We finally did leave and went to this restaurant. The same restaurant that they had went to the night before, with the famous nobody singer, and the excellent waitress.

The portions were gluttonous but very good.

There was a couple sitting at a table beside us who had ordered an extra plate of bacon, but was not eating it. This disturbed B. why weren’t they eating that fucking bacon?

Finally our food arrived and B forgot about the couple’s bacon. But even I thought it was strange that they were not eating it and they left without eating it as well, which of coarse did not sit well with B.

I was not feeling all that well, but I said nothing about it. I was out and planned on staying out.





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