Glass by Alanoud Zouman

Posted on November 15, 2011 by

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On the screen began the video tape. The view of a shaking hand which tried to keep the camera still upon the surface appeared. Stepping back into the empty white room was a tall, slim, pale man. With dark brown puffy red eyes he stared blankly into the camera. His mouth formed a small gap. He sat down on the floor, staring directly into the camera as an expression of a deranged man took place upon his face.

Calmly, he said “Dad. I can’t say that I forgive you for what you’ve done to me. Or forgive myself for what I’ve done to you. I feel comfortable talking to you here. Finally, I can talk to you.”

He rolled his eyes and said “I don’t know who’s going to end up watching this, if anyone watches this.”

With care in his eyes he stood up and began to walk around the room. “I’m in a better place now. I hope.” He whispered loud enough.

Jeremy, the nineteen year old boy who finally had the courage to speak up; Jeremy, the boy that walked over to his broken window where he opened it and stared down at the people; Jeremy, the boy that feared death no more.

“I hate myself. Hate all that I am, all that of which you are.” He began to explain, his hands almost talked instead of his mouth. With a twitch in his lips he pointed towards himself and said “I…I despise the monster inside of me that grows hungry by the second; the monster that’s telling me to stop talking and jump out of that window right now.”

He was the type of person that would take a while until they figured out something. For example, only recently did he realize that not everyone would greatly welcome him into their lives. Not everyone would kiss his feet begging him not to do this.

He seemed ill, unhappy. But not a man that was to hate, let alone, a man who was about to kill himself.

Jeremy took in a deep breath and said “I dropped out of college because I couldn’t handle the bullying. You know my usual coward-like self.”

He walked towards the camera and lowered himself down to its level. He squinted his eyes and said “Dad I’m so…sorry. I’m sorry for being like this I can’t help it I…” he broke his words and whispered “You can frown in disgust now.”

The video tape consisted of three main things. An empty, dead white room, a broken glass window and a broken man in it; the room had no sense of life, no sense of anything. It was he who made it all turn out like this. He brought this upon himself and others.

Jeremy sat down on the floor once more and with a sob in his voice he said “To everyone that ever bullied me. To those of you that toyed with me as a puppet and left me hanging, I hope you live a long miserable life for what you did to me. I hope your lives twist into a cage of hell for what you did to anyone even near me!” His voice got louder with frustration towards the end of his sentence.

A tear quickly escaped his left eye; no effort went into wiping it away. With a shaking voice he said “it never stops, does it?  You’ll never stop making my life hell just like I’ll never stop being a coward.” Such persistency from both sides; they enjoyed bringing him pain and wouldn’t stop; he suffered but never stopped being a coward. If they had anything similar between both sides, that would be it.

His lips began to shake and his face turned into a shade of red, more tears fell swiftly from his eyes as he covered his face with his two hands. Jeremy sat on his knees and bent towards the ground as his fragile seeming body began to shake and soft cries of pain escaped his lips as he tried to imprison them.

From such sadness no one would expect him to laugh. And Jeremy never let a crowd down. Despite his state he suddenly began to laugh a little. The sight was horrifying, making him seem like a mad man. Would one in a proper state of mind burst into laughter while crying?

He wrapped his arms around his stomach and stared up towards the ceiling. “Do I defy your rules of humanity, God?” His tone was bitter, full of such hate. “You’re doing this to me I know you are! Just because I don’t find women all that fascinating, just because I don’t lust over their bodies like most scum I see.”

“You’ll never stop punishing me.” He said, his tone changing from bitter to desperate. Jeremy at that point seemed like a little child giving up on trying to fix his drawing after messing it up.

He stood up, his figure slightly shaking but he managed to stop crying. Innocently he stared at the camera and smiled. Jeremy walked over towards the window, his shaking feet slowly stepping on it. Turning himself around so that he faced the eyes of the camera he let his slim hands let go of the windows edges.

When he let go a small part of his trousers got stuck in a broken piece of glass that tore a small part of cloth and scratched his left foot. His fall was painful, he yelled with pain but then he disappeared from the video tape as the air hugged him in his short fall. Leaving nothing but a piece of cloth dancing with the wind for hours; letting it tell a tale by itself; the sound of cars beeping and people yelling made its way up to his window and to the taping camera. The sound of warning sirens made through, and that was it.

It taped for hours and hours till it suddenly stopped, for the memory grew full of taping an empty room. On the same day in which Jeremy committed suicide, a huge box was found in front of the neighborhoods church. With opening it they found clothes, money, decorations, mostly glass decorations and a small note that was never read out loud.  No one can ever know a person truly, no matter how much they tell you and no matter how hard they try. But one must never give up for there is good in all of us despite our hate. One must never give up.

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Posted in: Glass