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Jessie’s Dark Fate

by Janae Galbearth about a year ago in fiction
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A Letter From a Man With False Hope

By Janedeangems

I walk through the hotel room, the smell of death filling my nose. I look for clues as to what really went on in here. We received a call about no one leaving this room for weeks and a smell coming from it. When we first got here, it seemed like it was a burglary gone wrong from the amount of smashed glass and blood. I shuffle around through the drawers for any personal items. I go to the nightstand and open the drawer. I see a small black notebook laying in the center, I grab it and open it to read but a page falls out. I decide to read that first:

“I’ve written in this diary countless times. I like to express my emotions, even if it’s just to my future self.

I hate that my life has come to this. I thought I was a model person. I’m no MLK, but I’ve learned the value of life and liberty. Unfortunately, I guess the universe disagreed with my opinion of myself.

That day started out like any other. I woke up, took a shower, and made coffee. I had a few errands to run on that beautiful Saturday. I remember my excitement at being productive.

You see, I dealt with depression. Every day was different. Sometimes I felt like doing things, sometimes I felt like there was no point in improving my quality of life. That day, I felt like doing things. It felt good.

I headed out the door to the grocery store first. I grabbed some items for my dinner tonight. I was making spaghetti. My mother used to make the best spaghetti before she passed. I’d go over once every month to homemade pasta and garlic bread.

Now that she’s gone, I relished those traditions, hopefully able to pass them on to my children.

After I finished getting things for my evening meal, I went to the local book store/vintage shop. I love old novels and items from our ancestors. To believe that they once cherished these things years ago, is a gift. I headed over to the section with the books. I scanned the tiny section of books that all looked handwritten until my eyes landed on one that was all brown. I pulled it out of the shelf and gave it a look. Suddenly, my vision began to blur. I couldn’t see anything, only life slowly slipping from my grasp. I dropped the notebook and hung on to the book shelf. I saw, through closing eyes, a lady running up to me to help. Her phone was next to her ear and she was screaming at police dispatch.

“He’s having a heart attack!” She was shedding tears, obviously in shock.

I saw her eyes close in distress, so I closed mine as well.

It was dark when I woke up. I don’t think I opened my eyes right away. I was too weak. I laid there and let the nurse look at my charts and adjust my IV’s. I opened my eyes to a beautiful girl staring at my arms and adjusting them. I was in shock when I realized she was the woman who called the ambulance for me.

“You’re still here.” I looked at her as she jumped in surprise.

“Oh! Hi. I couldn’t leave you here. You were out for 17 hours. No one came to visit...” She scratched her head, how adorable it was to see her nervous. She was right, however. No one was there because I don’t have any family.

“I’m not from here, it’s difficult for my family to travel here.” I don’t like lying to people, especially this beautiful person, but I had to in that situation.

“Well, you have me.” She put her hand on top of mine and I stared at her with confused eyes. That caused her to blush.

We’ve only known each other for about 24 hours, yet I feel like this person has known me all my life.

“This isn’t a proper way to meet, can we start over sometime? I’ll have to figure out when I’m leaving, though.” That time, I grabbed her hand and stared at her.

“I would love to.” The spark I witnessed sent me over the moon.

After that, I waited 26 days to go on a proper date with Gisselle, I got her name soon after I awakened. Every day at the hospital, I worked hard to get better. I walked, I ate, and I communicated with the doctors. Everything was going well. Gisselle said she’d meet me at the hospital and we’d go to the diner together. I couldn’t wait.

The time finally came for me to get discharged. I grabbed all my things and headed out. When I walked to the front door to leave, I caught a glimpse of Gisselle across the street. I couldn’t help but smile at her punctuality. It’s 3:58PM, she’s supposed to be here at 4:15. She saw me and a big smile plastered across her face. She started walking across the street, when a car being chased by police ran right over her, followed by the police car.

What I didn’t realize, at this moment, was fate. It always shocks us. It always leaves us traumatized. I wasn’t prepared.

My sadness, my disbelief, my anger, it all ended up putting me in a state of depression.

Three months after Gisselle was brutally murdered, I went back to the hospital. I learned I was dying from stage four lung cancer. I’ve never seen a cigarette in my lifetime. I always took care of myself. I didn’t deserve that.

I struggled with the news for a while. Juggling the thought of ending it all with the thought of carrying on.

A week after, I was given more news, my house burned down. A gas leak caused the fire and explosion. I was relocated to a hotel.

I kept asking myself: Was this my end? Does the universe not show me favor? Does God not care about me?

Sitting in a pool of my own anxieties, I stopped going to Chemotherapy. I stayed at the hotel until I couldn’t afford it anymore. I continued to ask God why. Why I lost my house. Why I lost a potential lover. Why I lost my health.

All these challenges blinded me. I was given false hope in the shape of $20,000 from a lottery ticket I purchased with pessimism.

I spent every last Penny on chemotherapy and finding a place to live. It was futile, however, as I received more bad news about my condition.

I yelled and screamed. I dug into my skin, trying to wake myself up from that terrible nightmare. I asked the universe to kill me. I asked it to let me be at peace.

In the end, I couldn’t save myself. I had to look up and ask why I was cursed to walk this Earth. I thought I was being taught a lesson, but I was no saint. Maybe I’m meant to exist amongst the non living, if so, I accept my fate.”

As I finish reading the contents of what I assume to be a farewell letter, I grab a marker and post-it note to label it as important.

Jesse Bunham… Grad student, bright figure, but unfortunately no future.

This letter expressed anguish, terror, and confusion. May his soul rest for all of eternity.


About the author

Janae Galbearth

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