Another Once Upon a Time Story

Foreword from the author:

Hello dear reader! This narrative poem came to life after watching a documentary on the Aokigahara forest. The black notebook theme only appears at the end of the story. Please note that all names are fictional. To enhance the mood of the poem, I have also decided to narrate the story on Youtube, and also linked Vocal’s website in the description. The embedded video can also be found here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERgl3HPsQ6o&feature=youtu.be

Enjoy!

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Another “Once Upon a Time” Story

Once upon a time,

there was this simple man.

As the household patriarch,

he stayed as strong as he can.

He worked hard every day,

to feed his wife and kids.

Played with his son Ray,

avenged his swollen eyelids.

His life seemed mundane,

but he was truly content.

What more can he want,

then a family of good intent?

But the truth was

that this man was feeling down.

He hated himself daily

and hid an ugly frown.

Just like this,

one, five, then ten years flew by.

Over time, the family

became unhappy just like the guy.

He was moody alright,

throwing tantrums here and there.

Complained about his wife,

complained that she didn’t care.

Yelled at his daughter,

plunging her in despair.

Ignored his son’s desires,

but hit him, he wouldn’t dare!

But his beliefs were far from truth,

for his wife loved him dearly.

She wasn’t good with words,

but made him top priority.

But life was harsh,

and so tired was she.

To endure all the pain,

to pretend to agree.

So she closed herself off,

and became selfish with time.

Stopped showing affection,

deemed laughter as a crime.

Now the man was angry

for he craved physical touch.

He turned to other women,

since abstinence was too much.

Now the family was broken,

the daughter unable to trust.

Despite doing her best,

she couldn’t understand his lust.

But reality was,

That he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Each of them loved differently,

and he needed touch to belong.

Luckily for the daughter,

her brother was a gem.

Was her voice of reason,

the family’s only brain stem.

He never judged no one,

and loved everyone from afar.

Always watched over them,

like a shining northern star.

But he was not enough,

to console the broken girl.

Since the only thing she knew,

was to give, bend, and curl.

A spineless fish she became,

Enable to decide her fate.

Couldn’t say “no” as an answer,

Couldn’t walk fully straight.

Then came a day,

when the father grew ill.

Ended up in hospital,

But couldn’t pay the bill.

The man didn’t know,

how to care for his health.

Ate moldy fruit and bread,

Despite his growing wealth.

Then suddenly one night,

A leather notebook appeared.

Its cover smooth and black,

Its paper luxurious and revered.

The curious little boy,

Being the most creative one,

Quickly picked up a pen,

Thinking it would be great fun.

But little did he know,

the notebook held great power.

As soon as the page was turned,

It gave him a tempting offer:

“Dear little one,

I will give you a choice:

You may get the 20 thousand,

to save dad and rejoice!

But all good offers,

must come with a price.

In exchange for the money,

I’ll need to claim a life!

But rest assured,

For there’s a better option.

Death cannot be cured,

So please proceed with caution.

Rather make me your friend,

and tell me all your sorrows.

Fill these pages till the end,

and fly free like a sparrow!”

Now the boy was smart,

and knew better than comply.

He knew that his dad

would rather choose to die.

As desperate as he may be,

which truly loving father,

would ever want to choose,

his life over his toddler?

The daughter didn’t realize this,

her thoughts blinded with pain.

Believing death to be bliss,

She was no longer sane.

“Why not?” she thought.

“My life has little value.

My father will live on,

and I’ll be happy too.”

A sad smile on her face,

she decided to take the offer.

For she only knew to erase

Herself and no other.

The brother, unaware,

left the notebook unguarded.

Sneaking into his room,

she signed the line intended.

Still believing she’s a burden,

tears streamed down her face.

Her eyes soon began to darken,

her breath leaving without trace.

Her brother realized too late.

She already exhaled her last sigh.

“What have you done!”

He exclaimed with a desperate cry.

“How are we to live,

with you now gone?

Do you think your sacrifice is healing?

Do you think you’re just a pawn?

You could’ve used that notebook,

for even better means.

You could’ve found new outlooks,

by writing in its seams.

But now it’s too late,

to change your poor mind.

You think this is the right choice?

You’ve left us all behind!”

“Your sacrifice isn’t love...

...and you’ll never change my mind.”

Please live on.

Signed,

-Ray.

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Postscript from the author

This piece is written to express the consequences of suicide. Having contemplated suicide myself during my teenage years, I have found that writing, music, and art are effective methods to cope through difficult times. Instead, I find solace by expressing my frustrations through narrative poetry and storytelling. To me, a notebook and pen symbolizes the freedom to feel strong emotions and heal from them.