A Selfish Act

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
20 year old Genevieve gets some tragic news that will change her life forever.

Submitted: October 11, 2011

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Submitted: October 11, 2011

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“He’s dead, Gen. I’m sorry.” Those words hit me like a bullet to the chest. It’s funny how certain words or phrases can cause physical pain. The phone slipped from my clammy hand and clattered to the floor.

“Gen? Geneveive! Are you still there?” My sister’s voice called to me from the other end of the line, clearly concerned. I picked the phone back up.

“Yeah Cam, I’m here.” The call had come at 1 am; my sister who worked at the police station was given the job of breaking the news to me. Even though she hadn’t said who “he” was or what had happened I was pretty sure I already knew. But I asked her anyway.

“Oh, Gen.” She said her voice was thick and gruff, like it always sounded before she cried. “His mother was worried and went to check on him when he didn’t return her calls; she found him hanging from the ceiling fan in his room. The poor woman, you should have seen her down at the station, explaining how she found him. The officer treated her as though she were a suspect! It made me sick!”

Poor Sandy, she was such a sweet and loving lady. It was hard on me, but I knew Sandy would have it rougher than anybody. I took a deep breath and told Cam that she better get some rest and that I would talk to her soon. After a few minutes of sincere condolences and an offer to come and stay with me for a few days, which I politely declined, we hung up. And I was left in the silence of my house, alone.

I walked to the wall where the picture of us at our senior prom, taken only two years ago, hung. I looked at our smiling faces and dressy clothes and wondered what I would have done if on that day someone told me this was in my future. If someone told me my sweet smiling Jay would simply give up on life and check out. I would have kicked them that’s what I would have done.

We were together for four years; he was my first in everything. For 3 of those years everything was wonderful. But last year the pressures of life as a college student, coupled with him simply putting too much on his plate, began to take a toll on his mental state. My smiley, kind hearted, and comical love slowly transformed into a broody, negative, and often pale sham of his former self. I did everything I could think of to bring him up out of his depression, I saw him everyday and we were almost constantly on the phone, I would tell him that things would get better if only he had a little faith. I told him that he had a lot to look forward to. I told him that I loved him. Obviously he didn’t believe me.

I was numb for a moment, trying to take it in. I looked at that picture a while longer, and remembered that night. He told me I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and then we spent the night dancing like idiots to the latest pop songs that neither of us liked. He was always so sweet to me so loving, unlike most of the hormone crazed teens we knew who only thought about the next person they wanted to have sex with. No, he definitely wasn’t like that. We would lie on the bed in his room and talk for hours and hours about anything and everything until my parents would force me to come home. Those were the happiest days of my life, and my chest tightened at the thought that they were now over for good.

For a while I just stood there staring at that picture, sobbing quietly, completely lost in my sorrow. Then a new emotion started to take root in my heart; anger. I began to wonder, “How could he do this to me? Even worse, to his mother?”  Jay had never had it easy, that much was certainly true. He felt pressured to exceed in all areas and was not even rewarded with the scholarship he both wanted and deserved. Damn budget cuts. But he had a loving family and circle of friends he had a totally devoted girlfriend, that wasn’t enough? His family’s constant support, his friends’ words of encouragement, and the countless hours I spent trying to help him and brighten his day, that wasn’t enough? I wasn’t enough? He couldn’t hang in there for us? I was pissed, stark raving pissed. At that moment he didn’t seem as kind and generous as I always thought of him as, he seemed just plain selfish and ungrateful. He took all of his blessings and tossed them right out the window; he took his own life and was too damn selfish to think of how it would shatter everyone else. He didn’t care; he was just too lazy to stick it out. My anger reached its boiling point and I through my fist right through his smiling picture. The glass shattered and sliced into my flesh. I watched the blood drip down my arm for a moment. Then I crumpled to the floor completely exhausted, and cried.

“Enough of this.” I thought, “I’m done.”  I got up went to the kitchen, and cleaned my wound. I decided that tomorrow I would go see Sandy and help arrange his funeral. After he was buried I was leaving. Enough of this town enough of these people. Enough of him. If he was going to commit such a selfish act then I was done crying over him. He knew full well what it would do to me and did it anyway; he obviously wasn’t who I thought he was. No, it was time to move on and start fresh. And that was exactly what I was going to do.


© Copyright 2020 Ava June Kessler. All rights reserved.

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