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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Suicidal guy has an experience

Submitted: January 27, 2014

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Submitted: January 27, 2014



"This is  a cry for help."  He punched the keys into the computer slowly and deliberately.  "I am going to kill myself if no one stops me, and that terrifies me."  He sat back and hit print, then he folded up the piece of paper and hid it among the pages of a book on his shelf.


The next day he was at work when his cell phone started vibrating across his desk.  He stepped outside and answered it.
"Hey, it's me.  Can you talk?"  She was speaking quickly and her voice sounded somewhat panicked.
"Sure, I have some time.  What's up?"
"Ugghh, thank you.  I'm just like, totally lost right now.  I think my boss might fire me soon and I don't know what I'm going to do."
"Why do you think he's going to fire you?"
"I am not getting the same amount of clients as everyone else here.  I am trying super hard, but it's all a matter of luck really.  I just know that I am not making them the amount of money that they're paying me, and I think they know it too.  So they are totally going to fire me soon."
"Relax" he said.  "You're working hard there.  Sure you may not be getting clients, but honestly that job sounds like it kind of sucks anyways.  How long do you really want to be trapped there doing that?  It can't honestly be what is making you happy.  You should hope they let you go soon.  Release you out into the world of opportunity and jobs that you could actually enjoy going to.  Shit, you've been at this job for a few months, gotten paid a few paychecks, and will hopefully be free from it soon with some money in your account and a good reference in your hand.  Don't worry about it, because if they let you go it will honestly be for the best."
"You're right, I like it here but the job is a shitty job.  Oh my god, that makes me feel so much better though.  They will give me a good reference too, cause I am working my ass off here and they see it.  Okay, I'll let you get back to work now, but thank you so much for talking to me, you totally saved me, I was freaking out."She hung up the phone.
'And who's going to save me' he thought to himself.


He was driving home from work along the freeway.  He was driving a little faster than traffic, passing cars in other lanes.  He was between a school bus and a semi truck when the bus started to slowly transition into his lane.  At first he thought it was just swerving a little and would swerve back soon.  It didn't, it was getting closer and closer.  He was pulling closer to the semi, and trying to slow down.  With each half second he was sharing more of his lane with the gargantuan bus.  He began honking his horn frantically.  For a moment it didn't seem to do anything, the bus kept inching closer and his body was tensing up preparing for the impact.  An inch before metal started scraping together, the bus dramatically swerved back into its lane.  He took his hand off the horn and his body began dumping adrenaline into his blood.  He sped up to pull next to the driver's window and started honking his horn again.  The driver, an older man with grey hair and a well groomed beard, was putting up his hand in apology and mouthing 'sorry' through the window.  In response he pointed his finger at the side of the freeway and mouthed 'pull over' back.  After a short back-and-forth of this, the bus signaled that it was getting off at the next freeway exit, and he pulled behind it to follow.  Directly off the freeway, the bus driver pulled to the side of the road, parked and hopped out of the bus.  He pulled behind the bus and jumped out of his car to meet the bus driver.
"Holy shit! What the fuck was that?! You almost killed me! You almost left me a splatter on the side of a semi!"
The bus driver put his hands up defensively, "Whoa, sorry buddy, I didn't see you there.  Hey though... no harm was done man."
"The FUCK no harm was done!  You probably took ten years off my life just from that! Holy shit, I can't even breathe!"  He put his hands on his knees and bent over, inhaling deep breaths and releasing them slowly.
"Look buddy, I'm really sorry.  Seriously, I just didn't see you there.  But listen, I have a bus full of kids who need to get home, and I don't think they need to see two adults fighting on the side of the road over an almost accident."
"What? I'm not going to fight you... you... what?" His mind was racing too fast and he couldn't make sense of what was happening.  He looked up at the windows lining the bus and saw dozens of little faces pressed against the glass.  Their noses and cheeks squished flat while small spots of fog clouded the glass with each exhale.  He glanced around; looking at the children watching him, then looking at the driver who still had his hands up in front of his chest, then at the cars passing along the road each slowing down to take in the scene he was part of.  His was getting control of his breathing again.
"Holy shit" he mumbled to himself, and then simply walked back to his car started it up, and got back on the freeway to drive home.


Once he arrived at his place, he went straight to his bookshelf.  He found his secret note, tore it up and threw it in the trash.

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