Science Of Fear

He laughed. In the midst of it all, standing face to face with his greatest pain, and all he could do was laugh. After everything that he'd been through, he knew that there was no other way to deal with this.
There was no way for him to really understand what was going on around him, he'd been delusional before anyone even realized it. Nor could anyone truly look at things from his perspective. It was impossible. To him, reality was non-existent.
Hours passed, as he lied there, speaking to himself in words only he could understand. She watched him through the small hole in the wall -one he created with anger on an earlier day- as he rambled on. He would sway back and forth, between moments of joy and cries of fear. She worried about him, but she knew that nothing could be done to make him well. Only he could pull himself out of the mess he created. She walked away from the scene, no longer being able to watch her love fall farther from what he used to be.
He got up off the floor and looked around the room to see if anyone was there. It was empty. The only objects in the room were his small box that contained his belongings and himself. Hands shaking, he opened the box. He poured out the objects, pulling each one out of the pile as he shuffled through them. As he tossed each object aside, he kept mumbling to himself.
Papers, a necklace, a few pictures, a charm, and some pills. Those pills, given to him by what he could only describe as a human form of satan. He feared nothing more than the medication. It silenced him, made him become what everyone wanted him to be, not what he truly was. He hated what he became, when they forced the pills down his throat. The rest..the peace it gave him. It didn't belong. He knew he didn't deserve it. He hurled the bottle across the room, screaming louder than he ever had before. Nobody noticed; His screams had become a common sound throughout the household.
He spun around to look at the papers he'd scattered across the floor, all were folded quite unevenly, except one. He reached for that one. He read it to himself, even though he already knew what it said. He'd read it enough that he could recite it word for word. It was the last note she'd written him before he gave up. He cried as he read through it, each word stinging him like a needle prick. As the letter came to a close he let go of the paper, letting it gently float back to the ground. He picked up another piece of paper, this one folded poorly, with many tears and unnecessary folds throughout it. He didn't open this one, only clenched it in his hand as he walked across the room to pick up the pill bottle. Hands still shaking, he looked at the bottle and read the prescription label, probably for the first time in his life. He popped off the lid, as he began to smile. Without hesitation, he poured the contents of the bottle into his mouth. He swallowed the pills, as he began to laugh. He'd never felt so happy before. Nothing was going to bring him down anymore, he was free.


She found him lying there, stone cold, but with a smile on his face. She saw the note in his hand, and ripped it from his grip. With tears in her eyes, she read the note aloud.
"I'm not letting you go, I'm just waiting for us to be together on the other side. Sorry I can't be what you want me to be, but I swear I'll be just that when I see you again."