David tried killing himself after his wife left him for another man. He was a puny uninteresting man who did everything by the book and lived his life in a mindless routine. Most people would consider him boring but to David, it did not matter as long as he had his darling.
That was until he caught her in bed with the newspaper boy one fateful afternoon. Devastated, he picked up his Gillette razor, removed the blade, and slashed his wrist.
He cried and cried, cursing and missing his wife at the same time. He began to feel faint, and he closed his eyes.
“Goodbye world. Bye bitch.”
He woke up startled.
“Am I dead?” He looked at his wrist. The wound was still there, but it had clotted and the bleeding stopped.
He was still weak. He got up slowly, and reluctantly went to the hospital.
He returned home, hours later, and quite pissed.
The next day, he bought a bottle of insecticide.
“This will surely do it!”
He slowly opened the cap, and fumes started escaping from the bottle. He was satisfied- the chemical will probably kill him in minutes.
He raised the bottle to his lips and took a big gulp of the insecticide.
He felt his throat burn with the chemical. Unexpectedly, he started to retch. He vomited all that he had ingested and all he had eaten that day.
He removed his stinking shirt, once again furious at his foiled plan.
The next day, he took himself to the expressway and climbed the overpass. He watched the passing cars below, the surprisingly beautiful sunrise, and the trees swaying gently in the breeze.
He took a deep breath and jumped.
In that instant, a ten-wheeler truck drove by and hit his body with so much impact it was split in two. The top half fell on the roof of a car, and the lower half thrown all the way to the opposite lane.
On a beautiful Friday morning, David finally got his wish and died.
That was until he caught her in bed with the newspaper boy one fateful afternoon. Devastated, he picked up his Gillette razor, removed the blade, and slashed his wrist.
He cried and cried, cursing and missing his wife at the same time. He began to feel faint, and he closed his eyes.
“Goodbye world. Bye bitch.”
He woke up startled.
“Am I dead?” He looked at his wrist. The wound was still there, but it had clotted and the bleeding stopped.
He was still weak. He got up slowly, and reluctantly went to the hospital.
He returned home, hours later, and quite pissed.
The next day, he bought a bottle of insecticide.
“This will surely do it!”
He slowly opened the cap, and fumes started escaping from the bottle. He was satisfied- the chemical will probably kill him in minutes.
He raised the bottle to his lips and took a big gulp of the insecticide.
He felt his throat burn with the chemical. Unexpectedly, he started to retch. He vomited all that he had ingested and all he had eaten that day.
He removed his stinking shirt, once again furious at his foiled plan.
The next day, he took himself to the expressway and climbed the overpass. He watched the passing cars below, the surprisingly beautiful sunrise, and the trees swaying gently in the breeze.
He took a deep breath and jumped.
In that instant, a ten-wheeler truck drove by and hit his body with so much impact it was split in two. The top half fell on the roof of a car, and the lower half thrown all the way to the opposite lane.
On a beautiful Friday morning, David finally got his wish and died.
3 comments:
how gory. hehehehe.
@ chase: hehe i'm trying a new genre ; )
tales from d creep, yikes.
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