Living Through Suicide

 

When I was in my first year of college I had an idea for a play that I wanted to write.  I never was able to write it as I am not great with dialogue.  I was telling someone abut it recently and I thought, I best write this down before it drifts away like so many of my memories.

 

The play was called Living Through Suicide.  I was thinking at the time about what would happen if someone decided to kill themselves and it didn’t work, he was rescued.  What would happen if he was so convinced that it would work that he sent notes to the people in his life.  Three in particular.  The first his best friend and he tells this friend that he only hung around him to look good.  That he didn’t really like him that much but he needed a companion.  All this in a letter mailed the day he kills himself (yes mailed, I started college in 1977).  The next letter goes to his girlfriend.  He explains that he doesn’t love her, he never did, it was all about the sex and her being eye candy when they went places.  Yes, this guy is a bit of an ass.  The third letter goes to a very close female friend of his.  They have been friends all through school.  The tone is totally different.  He has been secretly in love with her for years but always too afraid to say anything.  The friendship was so close that he didn’t want to ruin it by expressing his feelings, fearing she did not feel that way and would reject him in order to not lead him on.  He, by the way, was a college student.  They say write what you know.  At that time, I knew how to be a college student (or I thought so) and a lot about unrequited love (still know that one).  So as act I progresses, it is mostly him on stage, reading the letters aloud as he prepares to seal them in envelopes and mail them.  There is a brief scene with his family as they go, without him, on a weekend trip.  He gives them the letters to mail, they say goodbye and he sits at the piano and picks out, with just one or two fingers, a sad love song.  He opens a razor, and slits his wrists, and continues to play, to sing.  As he weakens a single spot light is on him.  Slowly tightening to capture him and the piano and then him and finally pinpoint on his fingers as he plays out the last few keys.  Slowly his voice fades as he can no longer sing to the music, his fingers move lightly over the keys.  In shadow we see his body slumped over the piano.  There is a small tear in his voice.  The spot tightens and then goes off.  The stage in complete darkness.  It stays that way.  Total silence.  An uncomfortableness in the audience wondering if this is the end of the act? Will the curtain close?  Should they applaud?  When just the right amount of time passes, the lights go full up.  We see his Mom at the door.  “I can’t believe your father forgot the letters you wanted mail . . . “her voice trails as he sees her son slumped over the piano and as she is about to scream . . . The curtain falls.  End of Act One!!

 

Act two takes place in his hospital room.  He is unconscious in bed.  We hear the background sound of the heart monitor as the light come up.  There is a bottle of clear liquid on a pole with a tube leading into his arm, feeding him intravenously.  There is a nurse taking notes as she walks around the bed, checks the intravenous, etc.  As she exits, the parents come in, the mom adjusts the bedding, kisses his forehead.  Doctor comes in, brief discussion.  Enter the friend.  He says hello to the parents.  Doctor exits.  Parents have a moment and then leave the friend alone.  This becomes a monologue for the friend.  He responds to the letter he received a certain amount of anger.  A certain amount of understanding.  Still concerned about the health of his friend and the ultimate decision he made.  As he breaks down, just a little the girlfriend comes in.  They greet, friend leaves, and now it is her turn for the monologue.  Again anger, understanding, perhaps the reveal that she too was using him.  She breaks down, gets herself up, composes herself, gives his hand a gentle squeeze and leaves.  He is alone.  We hear the sound of the monitor equipment.  We anticipate one more visitor but there is enough of an awkward pause that we just don’t know.  Then the door opens and the female friend walks in.  In tears.  She runs to the bedside but stops herself short of touching him.  She turns and goes into her monologue.  We find out, after a bit of general here’s what you’ve been missing stuff, that she felt about him as he expressed his feelings in the letter.  She is also angry that things came to this.  Maybe had she told him but she was also afraid of the friendship dissolving.  She finally breaks down, kneels by the bed and takes his hand in hers.  As she repeats the words I loved you, I love you, I have always loved you, he begins to stir.  She senses movement and looks up to see him as he slowly awakens.  He’s heard the words.  He realizes that he has not died.  He reaches up as if to touch her but then reaches above her and quickly rips the intravenous bottle from the pole and throws it to the ground.  Perhaps as the lights go out we hear the monitor flat line.  End Act II

Act III begins months later.  He has returned to his life, his female friend now his girlfriend.  Perhaps they are engaged.  All is happy in the world.  Parents, family, friend, ex-girlfriend.  Everything is very positive.  This act is the least developed of the three.  It seemed at the time I could easier flesh out the depressing stuff.  The happy stuff, not as much.  We end Act III with all being well in the world.

But there is an epilogue.   A Middle aged man is sitting and watching TV.  His wife is puttering around in the kitchen (think Archie and Edith).  We don’t know where this is or who they are.  Maybe it’s the happy couple from the play grown up and we’re seeing into their future.  Perhaps just a random couple.  The main is looking at a newspaper while watching TV.  His back is to us.  No small talk, just silence while we hear the news report.  Maybe we start coming back from commercial.  The entire scene is strictly the news.  The volume increases as it continues from a low, unintelligible sound to a louder but not overwhelming volume.  A comfortable level to hear the news.  We hear a couple of stories and then they newscaster starts talking about a fatal shooting at a convenience store.  A young innocent bystander was entering the store this morning as a robbery was taking place.  Plenty of details to the store location, shooters description, time of day, how many people, usual news report.  Ultimately we learn that the robber shot and killed the young man when he entered the store.  The authorities have released the victim’s name.  and yes, it’s the name of our lead through the story.  As soon as his name is mentioned, blackout, we hear very faintly that he leaves behind a wife and that they had just found out she was with child.  This very faint, perhaps close to inaudible.

 

When I told others my idea they thought it was a horribly depressing ending but see to me, he got what he wanted more than anything during the run of the story.  He wanted to die.

 

Well, there it is.  Living Through Suicide.