Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26475253-20150908015404

“As I realize the pointlessness of it all, the utter oblivion all are doomed to, I have decided to bring it swifter rather than not. I have many goodbyes to say and no time to say anything, so I shall try to be brief.



To my parents. I do not blame you for my awkward upbringing or my poor social graces; I realize that you tried. Perhaps I was the lazy pupil, perhaps it was just not meant to be. I apologize for any unwarranted sadness this brings about. I’d like to request a private funeral or, much more desirable, a cremation. While I don’t believe to any serious extent that many would come to aforesaid funeral, I’d like it to remain as serene as possible.



To my siblings. I’m sorry for never standing up for you younger ones, and I forgive you older ones for your antics. I acknowledge that this may bring about some sort of grief, however minor, to your tainted souls, so allow me to apologize to you, too. I know it may seem unfair and selfish of me to do this, but I find all other paths barred from me.



To my lover. I do not hate you for your rejection; far from it. I praise you for being completely honest, so I will do so in turn. This is not a note prying for guilt in your weary heart, and this is not a plea for help before the final event; rather, this is a goodbye before the abyss. I know you doubted my words many times, but I promise that they rang true. I love you now as I have always loved you.



To my family. There are far too many of you to name here, so I speak to you as a clan in general. I want you to forget about me; do not allow me to burden you any longer. If you must remember me, for who I was, not for what I am about to do. Of this I beg of you.



To my peers. While there are so few of you left now, I fear naming you individually. I’d like to thank you for tolerating me, even if, for some, I was forced upon you as luggage. I should like you to know that I shall hold the good times in my heart at the midnight hour.



To my lord. You I have to blame for my recent ravages and poor lifestyle. It is because of you that I have fallen from everything, because of YOU that I do this. Is this not a mere test, ante rapture? What is life but a game to fill your time and put your mind at ease, a simulator of your thoughts? Did you yourself not say ‘from dust you came and to dust you shall return’? Let us see now how all forgiving you are when I finish in this hell and move onto the next. “



With the ending of his saddening note, the young boy, a mere fledgling in the eyes of God, stepped up from his shoddy desk in his poorly painted, dull, green room and strode to the window. He peered out the window to view the traffic below. Here he stood contemplating for some amount of time, pondering all of life.



<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, is he going to do it? Have we waited fifteen years for nothing? I remind you, Agriel, that if this fails that you shall be beaten and torn on the most dreaded of all the fiery hot racks of hell for your folly” said a tall, shadowy figure lurking in the darkness of the Boy’s room.

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<p class="MsoNormal">“Do not worry, Duke Hastur; He will fall. His immortal soul shall be ours, and we may attend other duties.” This came from a much shorter voice, although easily above that of the average human being.

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<p class="MsoNormal">“Very well; let us watch.”

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<p class="MsoNormal">The boy, oblivious to the plot behind the ‘final event’ as he had affectionately called it, slid the lock off of the window and opened it, peering down once more at the traffic. In his epitaph he had written apologies and pardons for the many sins committed against him, but he knew he meant none of it; he blamed the world for what he would be doing. He blamed the bullies at his school, he blamed all the people that failed to invite him to parties, and most of all he blamed his parents for never giving a damn.

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<p class="MsoNormal">He raised one foot, slowly and gently, onto the sill. He then grabbed the weak upper frame of the window and pulled himself up, and sat for a while on the sill. He had decided to go quickly. He looked down at the fourteen stories stretching below him and knew he had not the courage to jump of his own accord. He then grabbed the Colt .45 from his jacket and adjusted it so it pointed at his temple.

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<p class="MsoNormal">“Fuck it…”

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<p class="MsoNormal">The boy didn’t die, but he did fall. An unknown fact is that when you are about to die, time stretches out to accommodate your final thoughts. This disproves the theory that suicide is the one unforgiveable sin; you get plenty of crowded moments stuck inside those last few seconds to pray for forgiveness. This is what the young boy was doing, sincerely this time.

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<p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t want to die…” the young boy thought as he fell ever so slowly to the pavement, rushing to greet him.

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<p class="MsoNormal">Another unknown fact about those few brief seconds before death is that your mind clears completely, and you can focus much easier. The boy was experiencing this now, and a tear came to his eye.

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<p class="MsoNormal">A few stories below him his parents were stepping out of a cab with a gift box.

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<p class="MsoNormal">That was why they had insisted upon working extra hours; they wanted so desperately to get him the newest gaming console so he could finally fit in, even if just a little.

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<p class="MsoNormal">“I love you two so much…”

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<p class="MsoNormal">The time warp ceased to be, and he cried out as he hit the hard ground.

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<p class="MsoNormal">“Very well executed, Agriel. You’ve fulfilled your quota, for now. You may go; your next assignment will be waiting for you in His office.”

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<p class="MsoNormal">As the shadow drifted away from Hastur, he remembered the old days, those brief moments before he was a demon, of the pure light shifting through the world. Then came the trial; Brother against brother, angel vs angel. Then all of his comrades were banished, and had to sink to temptations to win any ground in the eternal war.

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<p class="MsoNormal">With a sigh, Duke Hastur faded into nothingness, and returned to HQ.

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<ac_metadata title="The Note from the Underground (Unreviewed)"> </ac_metadata>