Saturday, January 28, 2012

The Pier


Schizophrenia according to Merriam-Webster;
: a psychotic disorder characterized by loss of contact with the environment, by noticeable deterioration in the level of functioning in everyday life, and by disintegration of personality expressed as disorder of feeling, thought (as delusions), perception (as hallucinations), and behavior —called also dementia praecox The disorder tends to affect young adult between the ages of 15 and 35.

Martin Meyer was sittin gon the edge of the pier. The empty bottle of Jack Daniels lay forgotten behind him. The wind was blowing and it was beginning to rain but it didn't seem to bother him, nothing could distract him anymore. His son was dead. Joining him was all he wanted. He thought of his wife, his beautiful wife. She would look after Flora, is wonderful daughter. All he needed was to join his son. He didn't want him to be alone, he was lost and it was his job as his father to find him. Tears ran down his face, he didn't even try to disguise them. Then he was falling, nothing was holding him, he was free, when hit the water he opened his mouth and sucked in the piercing cold water. Then he was dead, all the life in him was gone and his body began to return to the surface where it would be unceremoniously washed to the shore for a jogger to find in a few hours.

The phone woke Deborah up with a start, she had been lying on the couch trying to get some sleep after hours of living in the waking coma of grief. "Hello?" She said groggily.
"Mrs. Meyer?"
"Yes, who is this?'
"Officer Stephens-" He was cut off by a scream and the phone going dead.
Deborah had known the moment she had picked up the phone, the same serious tone addressing her with the name only her students used. She had been trying to call him for hours but she'd had no luck, but twice in one day? She thought she was going to be ripped apart, she had tried to remain whole for her family, but now what? She was on the floor weeping when Flora found her. She knew right away. They lay there crying and holding onto each other crying for hours.
The knock on the door was the thing that finally broke them apart. It was Officer Stephens he came to wish them his condolences and ask follow up questions. It had been one hour since the jogger had found Martin Meyer's body washed up on the shoreline bloated and lifeless.

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