This is the complete bestselling Entering the Abyss as published on Amazon. Some words got stuck together during the conversion from ebook to here. If you prefer the ebook, you'll have to buy it. If you don't want to pay, google how to get this onto your device.
All Rights Reserved Asad Shabbir 2012. You may not reproduce any of this using any means yadi yadi yah or any reproduction blah blah blah penguins blah blah without my permission.
Dedicated to Caroline, for igniting the idea and the inspiration to finish it.
"But in the end one needs more courage to live than to kill himself."-Albert Camus
I looked down, watching the blood on my arm trickle to the edge of my elbow, before falling twenty eight stories. I had never been particularlyscared of heights, except this one time where I almost fell of a pair of stilts.I guess I’m not afraid because of everything that’s been going on myhead right now.
My mind is seething, literallyseething right now. I looked down again, watching small ant-sizedpeople go about their business and the diminutive cars drive around the bustling city. Pausing mymental activity for one brief moment, I calculated where I would land. It doesn’t matteranyways, I decided, remembering that most people die due to heart failure even before theyhit the ground.I wanted to do it. Every moral fiber in my body screamed for it, I cried out as I told myself that there would not be much time to enjoy the pain.What a stupid term, enjoy the pain. Yet Iwas the one who just spent a good three quarters of an hour artistically cutting my arm. I know other peoplewho cut themselves but I am different. While the enjoyment of pain is an aim, I try to push my limits. My intentions are to make as big a hole in mybody as possible, without dying. So far, I have succeeded, as you might observe.But this was different.
I knew this would make one hole that will allow death to finally conquer me. And I was not fully sure of whether I wanted toswitch myself off or not. A part of me wanted to, but my logical side kicked in and wasn’t letting me. If it were not for my logical side, I would havejumped long before and wouldn’t be having this conversation with you.Wow, I hadn’t noticed…there are people down there who just noticed me. Ah crap!Now theywill send an ambulance and some idiotic policeman will come and tryand talk me outof it. This actuallyincreases the level of stress on the person. If you want to commit suicide, and are considering whether to do it or not and everyone starts interrupting you, it’s not good.You will most likelyhurryyou’re thinking process and make a rash decision. It’s funny how cops always presume mass psychology.
The door burst open behind me. I did not have to look back. I knew who it was.“Dude, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Said Paul, clearly tired from climbing stairs.I didn’t reply. I did not know what to say. It was embarrassingly clear that Pal was simply trying to make a conversation and delay my actions.“Don’t you come a step closer!” I warned, lifting one foot. I watched myself balance on one foot, on the edge of a tall skyscraper. Fighting thetemptation to keep my pose and get Paul to take a picture, Ireplaced my foot and resumed thinking.“You don’t have to do this. Don’t be a coward. What’s so wrong with your life?” asked Paul, dropping his ‘negotiator voice’.“Hmm, let’s see.” I replied, getting off the ledge and walking towards him. I knew he wanted me to get off the ledge and talk to him but I guessmy logical side overwhelmed me and simply wanted someone to talk to.“I messed up with Sarah. My parents hate me. My mom has made sure I can’t write. I only really have one friend who is ditching me. My parentsfound out I smoke. I am bullied every bloody day. I might be sent to a messed up boarding school.
Nobody gives a shit about me. If I died right now,today would be the only day where somebody would be concerned about me. That’s it. I don’t matter at all.” I said, fighting the tears. Iwanted to walkaway from this conversation with my dignity intact.“Don’t give me that bullshit. Your parents don’t hate you. They are just trying to protect you. You did not mess up with Sarah; she’s just a bitweird. You have friends and what do you mean I’d ditch you. And tons of people get bullied. I don’t see them jumping off buildings. Pull yourselftogether.” Snapped Paul.“I cut myself. I am depressed.” I admitted.“What!? Are you kidding right now?” Paul exploded.I silently pulled up my long sleeves which revealed a multitude of deep-seated scars. I almost felt proud for a moment when I saw Paul watch mymutilated arms in dismay.“That tears it. I am dragging you to the mental-ward right now.” Paul said, standing up.“Mental-ward? Don’t you think I know about that? Don’t you think I’ve tried it? I took medicine for depression.
I took classes. I took up hobbies.The only thing I have picked up from stupid counseling and all that crap is writing. I write, Paul. That’s the one thing I do. And now my mom hasruined that too.”Tears were rolling down my cheeks, and I just realized. This was…awkward.“Well, I am still taking you there. At least you can’t kill yourself there.” Paul concluded.Despite the fact that I was larger than him in size, Paul managed to drag me to his car outside. There were people who just watched me. I sawa little kid pointing at me, offering me some candy. I saw his mother, hushing her child and ushering him away from me, the madman.I sat inside Paul’s beat up car. He walked round and sank into the driver’s seat which had springs and foam sticking out of it. I felt like I wasbeing arrested because there was an air of command that Paul carried and Iwas sitting in the back so it felt like Iwas in a very messed up cop-car.
“I am sorry to take your fame up there. But you need help, mate.” Paul said.I remained silent. I did not know what to say. Was I to thank him for saving my life or was I to thank him from pulling me back amongst themortals where Iwill have to live a miserable life.“I am just trying to help.” Said Paul, turning left.Where the hell is he taking me?“Where are we going?”“Well, I heard that JS Hospital has a very big mental ward so I am going to hand you over to them and then I’ll go inform your folks and get somestuff you might need for your stay.” Paul replied while adjusting the thermostat. He liked to do that. The thermostat never worked but he alwaystwiddled the knob and pretended that it worked.“Like hell I am staying. Screw you.” I spat.“I am stronger than you. I am faster than you. I’ve been beating you at wrestling for five years. If they let you go, you can go.” Paul said.“I’m smarter.” I said, pulling on a loose string on the back of his seat.*I was waiting outside the room. Paul was talking to some doctor and they made me wait outside. How can one be cured of depression whenthe place where they stay is depressing.
The white sterile walls, the antiseptic smell that lingered in the hallways and the plain doctor uniforms mademe want to blow my brains out, just so there would be a change in the deadening atmosphere.I swung my head forward and brought it back, hitting the wall. The silent old lady next to me shot a dirty look. I ignored the oblivious glares as I kept banging my head on the wall. From my point of view, I was going to die anyways so I could do whatever
Iwanted because it wasn’t as if I was going to see these people again.A few minutes passed by, and I decided to see what was going on inside. I had grown tired of waiting. I wasn’t on the death row. If I was goingto do myself in, I was going to do it according to my convenience. I stood up, making sure to make as much noise as possible and burst into theroom.“What’s the hold up? Paul, I am fine. Let’s go.” I said.“Mr. Devora, Please have a seat.” The doctor requested.“Nope. I’m leaving. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me.” Ireplied.“Dude, sit down or I’ll tell Sarah about that one time during camp where you-“started Paul in a very threatening tone.“Aright, you are a bastard Paul.”I swore, sitting down, refusing to shake the doctor’s gloved hand.
“Very well, Mr. Devora. Now, your friend Paul has told me of your tendencies to hurt yourself.” Began the doctor.“Yes. I cut myself. And I was just about to end my misery when you lot interrupted.” I snapped. Normally, I am very polite but I guess that when somebody has so much overwhelming crap on their mind, politeness isn’t a priority.“I am aware of that. I am doctor Sanders, and Iwant to help you.”I took a deep breath and calmed down before saying “Listen, I appreciate your help. Thank you Paul, you’re an awesome friend. And thank youDoctor Sanders, but your help won’t help me with my parents. Your help won’t help me be with Sarah. Your help won’t do anything for the cuts I’vemade. I live in pain and misery.
Your help can’t help me. Please let me do this. “They were taken aback from the absence of rudeness in my speech. They were just about to say something when I cut in “Plus, isn’t euthanasiaand assisted suicide legal in this country? Yep!”“Okay, listen to me young man. I have worked in this hospital for over thirty five years. I have had thousands of troubled gentlemen sit in the veryseat you are currently occupying. I have heard of all the garbage that leads to people killing themselves. You are no different. Your life might behorrible but there is no sane reason for you to end it.
Life has to be preserved. And get the idea of assisted suicide out of your head because youhave to be over twenty-one and you need parental and provincial approval.” Barked the doctor, forcing me to shut up.“Sorry.” Imumbled.“What?” he demanded.“I said sorry.” I groaned.“I don’t want your goddamn ‘sorries’. Shut up and sit there. If you go around telling people this bullshit, you’ll start believing it. If you believe it,you’ll eventually end up here. You have officially hit rock bottom of your existence. Now, there is nowhere to go but up. I am admitting you to themental ward.”“It’s not my bullshit, its just- wait, what? You’re chucking me into the mental ward?”“Don’t worry; it’s a fine ol’ place. You’ll enjoy it.” He replied. He then began to write in the blue folder which lay open on his desk.
Panic started to rise in my chest as I realized this was for real. I turned to Paul and began pleading with him. He was concerned but seemedresolute.“No, this is good for you. These people are professional. They will take care of yah. Don’t worry, nobody at school will know of this. It will be fine.You will feel better.”*I knew Paul was right, in a way. But I didn’t like that way. I sighed as I waited in a really weird waiting room. Someone was supposed to comeand take me to the ward.“You’ve really done it this time you idiot!” I told myself. Then I realized that just the fact that Iwas speaking to myself showed how much I neededto be in the ward. I sighed again, fidgeting with my clothes.
Paul should be here now with all my stuff. My phone rang, which to my utter surprise, hadnot been taken by the hospital staff…yet.I answered. Itwas Sarah. Justwhat I need!“Scott, are you alright?” she asked,worried.“Yeah, I am swell. You?” Ireplied, not wanting to talk to her. Yet, Iwanted to hear her voice quite badly.“Scott, I saw you on the news. Don’t do anything stupid. I am sorry.” She begged.Just hearing her saythis made me want to kill myself. After everything she has done, this is what she says? Don’t do it!“Okay. I need some time.” I choked, knowing that I sounded like a girl.“Bye."
”She destroyed me, she literally reduced me to the lowest form known to man and I still love her. Life is funny. A bit too funny for my liking. I wasjust about to delve into my thoughts about Sarah when Paul burst into the waiting room, carrying two large bags.“Sorry, I thought Iwas late!” he gulped, leaving the bags on the floor next to me and taking the seat by my side.“Nah, its fine,” I answered. “How did my parents take it?”“They weren’t home. I left them a note but you know your parents.”“Oh well. Glad to know they care.” I said. Iwasn’t angry at them. Iwas angry at myself for being indifferent towards their attitude. It wasn’t right.“Scott, listen to me-” Paul started.“No. I am not listening.
I am sick and tired of taking this from everyone.” I barked.“Mate, you need this. Do it for your parents, do it for Sarah.”I grimaced, cracking my knuckles, and then nodding towards Paul. We stood up, shook hands, and waited for the nurse to admit me…*Time passed by. Iwould tell you how much but to be honest, I have no clue. I guess that Iwas there for three days, or maybe four. They took anyform of technology on you and didn’t have any windows or clocks inside. It was almost as if time ceased to exist inside the ward. Yet everything seemed to work slower. Everything.
*
After Paul left, they gave me an injection, which despite my protests, they managed to inject without telling me what it was. I felt helpless, like acow at a slaughterhouse. I could see the final destination on my road, my but the only problem was that Iwasn’t the one driving.The people in there were…unreal. They were like zombies, who had retired. Yes, just like zombies. They did what the nurses told them to. Like
clockwork, they all ate when they were programmed to. They slept when they were programmed to.
A flawless machine, operating without theslightest hiccup.I said I didn’t remember anything because I sort of freaked out when this old lady tried to stab me with a spoon. This was just when I wasadmitted into the ward. Imight have fought back so they sedated me. After that, I don’t remember much.But not anymore. Gone is the monotonous tyranny of the hospital. I am in-charge of my own life and will do as I please. I am surprised that JSHospital isn’t facing multiple lawsuits regarding its lax security. Why, I just walked out of there and nobody said a thing to me. A patient, from the mental ward, has just strolled out into the real world.I would tell you more about that godforsaken ward but I am currently getting late for a meeting I simple have to take.
I don’t have my phone on me or my wallet so I simply walk towards home. It must be around seven in the morning. People are getting ready to go to work. Reaching home, I creep towards the back and remove one of the loose bricks from the shed where my dad kept his tools which were never actually used. Groping inside, I grabbed what I had been hiding there for almost a year.
Hastily stowing it away, I briefly entered the house to change and wash up.It is time to go to school.
*
The corridor was brighter than usual. Perhaps this was because there was no one walking through, except a teen boy. He wore a red shirt anda tight blue jacket. A backpack casually slung over his left shoulder. He made his way across the corridor, trying to attract the least amount of attention possible. On the other side the corridor, he could barely see a small disarray of sofas. Even though he could not see who occupied theseats, he knew that the person he was seeking was there.A fellow colleague entered the corridor and walked across. She gave him a cheerful smile but he was only able to return a slightly apologetic sheepish grin which would have been appropriate if he was visiting a sick friend.
Half-way through the corridor, he switched the backpack to his right arm and adjusted his clothes. He cast a glance at the sofas again andfound him! Fastening his pace, he started to take his jacket off. After hastily chucking his jacket and bag in his locker, he hurried back to the sofas.The people who sat upon the sofas acted as if they had been placed on a figurative pedestal which towered over his. Despite theawkwardness, the boy asked to speak to Paul, who sat on the sofa, telling tales.
The other boy joined him, looking slightly apologetic.“Hey Scott. What’s the hell is going on?” asked Paul, bewildered.“Hi, I have to talk to Sarah-” Asked Scott, ignoring his friend’s query.“Ahan, so why the hell are you here? Did they discharge you?” Paul said, attempting to change the subject“I don’t care. Did you tell-“ Scott asked, rooted to the spot.“Listen, buddy. Relax and don’t let other people hear.” Paul said, looking around to make sure if people heard.“Did you tell? I heard from that you-“started Scott, oblivious to the strange looks he was getting from the people around.His friend looked around and rose his hands up defensively and was about to start explaining when Scott dismissed him in a fluid reaction.Turning on his heels, he walked towards to his locker.This was it. Scott grabbed his jacket and put it on, preparing for the end. He walked back towards the hall, making sure he could feel a bulge inhis inner pocket. As soon as he felt the weapon, his heart cried out in despair and his mind started to whirl.
His heart racing, he started to walkdown the hallway.Every step he took towards the other end, Scott felt as if a part of him was being forcefully being ripped off. A beast unfurled within Scott,roaring in fury. The beast, who had been in dormancy for so long, had finally arisen. With each step and every resounding ‘thud’, the beast roaredand protested in increasing amounts of fury. As more people walked by, some started to look at Scott as if he was having a fit.Despite all that was happening, the troubled lad was very surprised the people could not hear his inner wrath.
He was half-way across the corridor when the posters on the walls and each and every thing which Scott had seen when he first walkedthrough, now calling to him. The posters, the doors, the chairs, the tables, the classrooms, the lights and so many more negligible items called onhim; all desperately screaming and hurling pieces of incoherent advice.The beast urged Scott to listen to everything but Scott had his mind made. Another part of had arisen, which begged for Scott’s resignation.Scott resolutely agreed with that part, despite the furious demonstrations by the enraged beast. He had taken too much, and had to end all his painand misery. Nothing could be done and this was the final straw.Almost to the end of the corridor, he looked out a window and saw a very green meadow, soaked in sunlight.
Casting a final look at light before entering the abyss where he will be perpetually blind, he exited the corridor, getting ready for the final moment of truth. He abruptly stopped, tearsstreaking down his face. He could see people approaching him, trying to assist him while others just laughed at him for being a helpless sobbingpansy.Scott stuck his head into the corridor and looked back at the sofas, which were so far away now. He wished to glance upon her one last time.
He waited for a few minutes, dismissing everyone who asked why he was crying. When he did not see her, he could not take the pain and despairwhich ate and feasted from within Scott.Pushing everybody who was trying to ask him what’s wrong away, his hand reached in his inner pocket and pulled out a gleaming pistol. Scottlooked at the pistol for a second, begging it for a proper dismissal from the world. The people, at first considered the gun to be a toy but soon pieced together what was to happen. Screams, panic and chaos reigned as people ducked and saved themselves.
Frowning, Scott clutched to the gun and placed the short, merciless barrel on the side of his forehead. He waited for a minute, knowing he onlyhad a few seconds before someone apprehended him. He clung to the gun, his face held in a very tight frown. His finger rested on the trigger.“This is it!” he thought. He envisioned the girl he loved for a split second before he pulled the trigger. People screamed but Scott was alreadyoblivious to all the pains around him. He felt himself crash onto the floor, and heard his cheek smash on the polluted floor with a sickening crunch like sound. He fell into a puddle of scarlet blood and waited to be taken somewhere ...happy.
