He sat watching the television.
It wasn’t on but that hardly mattered since he wouldn’t really be able to pay attention to it anyway.
The pills were starting to take effect.
It wasn’t much, just enough to make him feel just a little drowsy and woozy.
The world had taken on a bit of a glowing haze.
He had just began to realize he wasn’t able to really focus on anything.
The realization that he had passed the point of no return hit him slowly.
He was past the point where, if he called the police right now they would never arrive in time.
The thought was pleasing, but he didn’t smile.
He had read somewhere that people who left notes were simply crying out for help, but he had left one anyway, not wanting his family and friends to live in doubt and wonder.
He wanted them to know why.
Wanted them to know he had simply reached the point where he couldn’t deal with anything anymore.
Wanted them to know he had simply given up.
He wasn’t sure how they would take or deal with it, but it wasn’t something he would have to worry about.
So he had the note.
He had purchased and taken 2 bottles of the pills. It hadn’t been easy, especially the last half of the second bottle, it had hurt badly, his throat being raw from all the swallowing.
The room was rented through the end of the month, but he was sure someone would look for him in a day or two.
If nothing else, to find out why he hadn’t been to work.
The feel of the room changed again.
It had gotten darker but the light hadn’t changed, almost like the sun had passed behind a cloud.
Slowly he realized there were only minutes left before he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes open any longer.
Not much longer after that and all his worries and problems would cease.
He leaned his head back in the chair, partially surprised he still had that ability and closed his eyes.
The world swan for just a second and settled in around him.
He took a deep breath.
And let go.
He walked steadily down the sidewalk.
He patted his coat pocket to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind. The timing had to be precise but it helped that he knew exactly where he was going and exactly what to do, after all he had been here and done it before.
Well, HE hadn’t actually done it, but it had been done and he had done it.
The circumstances ran circles in his mind, threatening to confuse him again even though he had a firm grasp on what will and had happened. As he approached the door he reached into his back pocket and removed the room key.
He slipped the plastic card into the slot and waited for the door to click.
Carefully he turned the knob and stopped, glanced at his watch and he waited.
He counted to himself and when he reached a number that satisfied him, he pushed into the room.
The room wasn’t dark, but it wasn’t exactly light either.
It reminded him of a sunny day when the sun was behind a cloud.
He again smiled.
Glancing around the room he saw the other sitting in the chair by the window just as he remembered, the empty pill bottles on the nightstand next to him.
Again he patted his coat pocket then, satisfied that everything was in place, he reached in and pulled out a syringe.
He removed the cap and held the needle straight up in the air and pushed the plunger, removing all the excess air, just as he had seen in the movies.
Again the smile.
Slowly he walked over to the figure in the chair, pulled up his right sleeve and plunged the needle into his arm.
When it was empty he replaced the cap and stuffed the syringe back into his pocket and waited.
He wasn’t impatient or nervous, he knew what would happen.
It had happened already so there really was very little mystery.
Slowly the other’s eyelids fluttered and he woke slowly.
“Wha… where am I?
“Still in the hotel room.”
He smiled as the other started at him and squinted trying to focus.
“Don’t worry,” he told the other “everything will be fine. “
“I don’t want to live!”
“Yes, you do.
You just don’t know it yet.”
He laughed to himself, “I saved you. “
“Who… who are you?”
“Yes, you would be. You won’t remember this conversation for a while, but you will live. Things will change and they will get better. ” he said watching the other struggle to grasp hold of reality and as the medication began to take effect.
“You can’t know that. No one can.”
“I do. I know it for a fact.”
“I can’t tell you that.” he said as he turned his back to the figure in the chair and smiled again.
“I can tell you that Ray will be here in about 10 minutes and that the drug I gave you will never show up on any toxicology reports.
It will appear to others as though he arrived in time to save you.
“Ray left this morning for New York.”
“No, I cancelled his flight and set it up so that he can’t leave until tomorrow. The details are unimportant right now.”
He walked over to the door, opened it and started out.
“I don’t understand!” cried the chair bound figure.
Pausing he looked back at him still in the grip of the medication he had given him.
“You’ll receive a letter in about 15 years explaining everything. It will take you another 5 years to accomplish your goal.”
“How do you know that!”
He reached into his other back pocket and pulled out a worn looking envelop, “Because you did.”