I went home early that day. As I entered my house, I saw the letter. It was on the floor. I picked it up. There was no address or any stamps on it. Only my name, Alexander Greene, was written on it. It seems that someone just slips the letter under the door. I opened it and read its contents.
To whom it may concern,
My name is Alexander Greene, and this is my suicide letter. If you're reading this, its mean that I'm no longer in this world. And I bid you farewell. This world have taken its toll on me, and I have no strength left to fight it. Everything I do ended in ruin. Everyone I love, left me. I have nothing left accept my life. But it will all be over soon.
All those hatred and lies that been pounded on me all these years, have left bitter and crooked. I was not the man I was once. All those hope and dreams for a better future, was now just a figment of imagination. A naive attempt of a young man, now turned into rubbles of dirt and feces.
Yes, I still remember all those good years. Every single one of it was engraved inside my brain. Even if I tried to forget it, it came back like slashing knives, making the pain even worst. I was once rich and famous. A had a life that every man craved for. But it was not the riches or the fame that kept me burning all those year, it was Olivia, the love of my life.
Olivia, oh my sweet Olivia, how many years it has been since I tasted her strawberry lips. How I crave for her warmth every night. Her beauty was like lightning in the dark night sky, flashy and yet so dangerous. Captivating for anyone who got a glimpse of it. A beauty that make every man tremble to his knees. You were mine Olivia, and that alone is enough for me.
I gave her everything, my life even my soul. But to her, it wasn't enough. That dark truthful night on Valentine's Day have made it clear to me. I bought her a bouquet of red roses. It was her favorite. But I was surprised when I got home that night. On the bed we chose together, there she was with someone who was not me. But I was not mad or angry. She was Olivia, the love of my life. She would stay with me forever. I went to kitchen and came back to the room. The red roses that was in my hand was gone. All I had in my hand was a knife that I bought for her last year. Before I knew what had happened. She was cold and motionless on the bed with the man who was not me.
Oh, how it tears me apart to see her like this. Her warmth was replaced with a sharp cold. I'm sorry for everything my sweetheart. But don't be afraid. I would join you soon enough. I have tied a rope on the ceiling and made a knot fit for a neck at the end of it. I placed a chair right underneath it. It was facing you that still lay motionless on the bed. This way when it all ends I can still see your face. Wait for me Olivia. I'm coming to embrace you again. Wait for me... And to you, whomever read this letter, I'm sorry for the mess.
No longer in this world
I stumbled on my knees. Was this true? Was this my suicide letter? The writing was mine, the signature was mine, I recognized it. This was indeed my letter, but I don't ever recalled writing it. Did I do it unconsciously? I don't remember any Olivia. I had a girlfriend once, but her name was Carol. But we broke up a couple of year ago. He left with another man. But it never made me feel like killing her tough. I did love her but it was a long time ago. I checked on the letter again to see the date it was written. The date was clearly written on the top right of the letter. It was 24th February, 2011. That is today's date. Just ten days after Valentine's Day.
I felt sick to the stomach. I tried to get up steadying my feet. I went to my room. The room was a mess. I never had any chance to clean it. The room was dark and the lights doesn't seem to be working. There were many dried red petal scattered everywhere on the floor. I tried to find my way to my bed in the darkness. But I stumbled upon a chair. The chair was facing the bed and above it was a rope, tied to the ceiling. I climbed on the chair and inspected the rope. It was tied with a knot that nicely fit the neck. I put the rope around my neck and fasten it. And there I can see in the shadow upon the bed. There were two dark figure. Laying, unmoving. My eyes grew heavy on me, and then I fall and tripped over the chair I was standing on. I hung on the rope that was fasten around my neck. My feet was slightly two inches above the floor. And then I dropped the letter that I wasn't even aware holding it. And one day, someone will read it. And I really felt bad for the one who's gonna clean up all this mess. THE END