Ich Bin Tot

Reads: 801  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 2  | Comments: 11

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

A man's final thoughts before committing suicide.

“Mother, forgive me,” I whisper, my eyes closing to hold back the flood that would surely gush forth otherwise. My hand trembles as it holds the cold steel to my temple, tired from staying in position for half an hour. My feet feel cold and prickly, falling asleep from inactivity. My stomach groans in protest, but I will not be obliging its request tonight.

I think of Mother; she’ll be devastated by the news. I hope she’ll know this is not her fault. Maybe Robert will tell her.

Robert; we talked yesterday, but I never mentioned my plan for this evening. Knowing my brother, he probably heard some hint of distress in my voice. But I won’t find out.

Steven; my so-called father won’t give a shit. No doubt about that.

Jerry; he might care. It’s been two years since we’ve seen each other, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my closest childhood friend showed up to the party.

Stacey; I hope she cries. I hope she bawls like a baby when she finds out. Serves her right, the insensitive bitch.

John; I don’t know how he’ll react. He’s always been good at surprising me. Not like I’ll be around to see though.

Sarah; she won’t even remember me. Stacey will probably tell our daughter that I left and I’m never coming back. At least she’ll be right for once.

“Mother, forgive me,” I whisper again. I’m procrastinating, and I’m fully aware of it. I’ve always been known for putting things off; it’s kinda why I almost didn’t finish college. Mother had given me a rousing speech near the end of my last semester. It worked, and I was able to graduate. Stacey and I were married six months later, Sarah arrived three months after that.

We were a family for just shy of a year. Then she left and took my sole contribution to the world. The papers now sit on the desk by the window. No need to sign them. She’ll have what she wants in no time.

I heave in a great gulp of the chilly air. My heavy hand falls to the side. My eyes snap open to the black room. I push myself up from my Lazyboy and hear my knees crack and pop. I put the six-shooter on the kitchen table and pace the floor.

And then I stop.

The wall adjacent to my chair is painted with a blotch of red. A figure is slumped to the left in the chair from which I just arose. A pistol lays on the floor, carelessly cast down to the wood. I turn and cannot find the gun on the table.

“Mother, forgive me.”

Submitted: February 04, 2011

© Copyright 2022 Tyler Gohde. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



whoa... that was spectacular. i had to go back and read the last few lines because i was like, wait, then i was like, oh! awesome write man, i'm a fan

Sun, February 6th, 2011 12:12am


Thanks! Glad you liked it. :)

Sun, February 6th, 2011 6:08am


Exactly as the guy before me said, I had to go back and was like 'what?' and then I thought about it and I had to paint the sceane in my mind and I was like 'oooooohhhhh! Now I get it' Good ending. I like it.

Sun, February 6th, 2011 7:37pm


Danku. :)

Mon, February 7th, 2011 1:29pm


O snap. A story without gross misspellings and grammatical errors. Great last few paragraphs. Thumbs way up. I wrote one that was similar in its macabre nature. Just posted it today.


Mon, February 7th, 2011 9:21pm


I'm glad you liked it. I'll check yours out when I can. :)

Mon, February 7th, 2011 1:29pm


You were able to paint a very vivid picture in a short a mount of time. It looks like you're not afraid to write about anything, so it would be great to see what you're able to do with other topics, as well.

Tue, March 22nd, 2011 8:53am


Thanks. There's actually a really, really dark scene in a project I'm working on. It's gonna be out there.

Tue, March 22nd, 2011 5:53am


Very very well done, the way you described the scene was spectacular. Felt as if I was there seeing the whole thing. Good job!

Thu, September 1st, 2011 6:50pm


Thanks. :)

Thu, September 1st, 2011 12:08pm


Well, wasn't that something. If I may just allow myself of talking about your honorable darkened writing, it would go pretty much something like this : you have that kind of a clever style that had the immense potential of narrating a story hat one wouldn't particularly like, but that he would very much hate, that he wouldn't feel comfortable about reading it, but on quite the contrary, that he would be so easily repulsed and horrified of its immensity. The words that you have combined together made me Feel, Sensed, Believed. They have painted a picture that it was within my capacity to imagine. A picture that seemed to be even further more real than all of the palpable things that are surrounding me. I'd very much would like to thank you for that. And dear, the style was just ecstatic. Orgasmic.
I myself have just been initiated to the joy of creating with ink on paper, so I would very much would like to know what you thought are concerning my humble writing.

Mon, September 5th, 2011 3:59pm


Thank you for your beautiful words. That means more to me than you know. :) I'll check out your work as soon as I can.

Mon, September 5th, 2011 11:39am

Sammy Wang Yang

This does require a couple re-read. Almost like the character is re-living the same moment, again and again. It's like a loop. Interesting mechanic; having your reader do a double take. I enjoyed reading it twice & even twice more; in a loop!

Wed, June 27th, 2012 6:40pm


Thanks. I'm glad you had to read it a couple times to get it. :)

Wed, June 27th, 2012 7:09pm

Jeff Bezaire

A great story! I like how you illustrate his transcendence at the end - the slow realization that he did pull the trigger. You developed the character's life and his pathos wonderfully without going into too much detail. Fantastically written!

Wed, January 17th, 2018 8:57pm


Thank you so much, Jeff! I'm glad you enjoyed this little piece. Have a great day!

Sun, January 21st, 2018 2:18pm

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