suicide?

For many years, Frank never quite saw the need to draft a will. However on a rather ordinary day for this ordinary churchman, he woke up with a sudden epiphany and rose rather cheerily. Should Mrs. Frank have seen this, she would not have failed to pass a comment about how he looked younger, but as always she lay asleep with her back facing her husband.

As Frank started out the window, watching the raindrops pelt the windowpane on yet another dreary English day, he felt freer than he had in months. Worst of all was the pretense he had to put up for his dwindling congregation that yes, all was well with the Franks. Thankfully, the eyesight and hearing of the parishioners had grown so bad that they now could neither discern sarcasm from actual happiness, nor a blatantly forced smile from a real one. Their eyesight had also spared them the agony of seeing Mrs. Frank sneak Mr. Williams into the parish house, which is what a rather distressed Frank saw one day in a security camera he had installed on the church grounds – to stop the theft of the church’s prize winning roses.

The next blow came when he saw who the thief of the roses was, none other than his son, Frank Jr. As if Frank Jr. didn’t upset his father enough, the video camera also captured him giving the roses to another boy and a gratuitous make out session ensued. Such debauchery! Frank felt sick to the stomach and head and dirty all over. He leaned over and puked into the paper bin and started to cry. Perhaps this is how God feels like, he thought, able to see every single sin we carry out, rendering him sick, as his tears washed the puke off his mouth.

The final blow came a few weeks later when because the rose bushes were too bare of roses that they were disqualified from the annual county competition – for Frank was the sort of man who had a marked disability in confronting loved ones and Frank Jr. had literally deflowered the bush in addition to being deflowered in front of the bush.

Frank soon started to think rather dark thoughts, which all too often drifted to suicide from the ‘manlier’ thoughts of killing his entire family with a chainsaw. However he was a man of the church through and through, he could not possibly take his own life for it was against God’s wishes, it was a sin! What was the point of living such a Godly life and leaving a sinner? Besides, he told himself, there’s so much suffering in the world that I should at least try to alleviate some of it before I go or else my life is a waste. At that very thought, he drifted off to sleep and dreamt a dream of a land far away where he would be able to die soon without sinning and awoke the next day with a grin.

-----

Frank got into his rather small and economical car after preparing breakfast for the entire family and set off for the nearest town where the family solicitors were located. Parking his car, he headed straight for Bingham & Botts; Advocates & Solicitors. He drafted his will, leaving his wife and son the princely sum of 2,000 pounds each and willed the rest to Adulterers Anonymous and Help for Homosexuals. Feeling pleased with himself for being so witty, he then headed to the travel agent’s to book a one way ticket to Iraq, economy class, thank you very much.

Errands done, he went off to the grocers and bought the weekly groceries, giving himself a little treat by buying his favoured Polo mints. Popping one into his mouth, he loaded the groceries into the car boot and got into the car and set off for home.

He found Mrs. Frank and Frank Jr. at the breakfast table eating the breakfast he had nicely laid out earlier and he greeted them cheerily, receiving guttural grunts in return. He decided there and then to announce his plans to his family. “Can I have both of your attention please? I’d like to say now that I’m going to Iraq for a trip this Saturday.”

Mrs. Frank paused from drinking her tea. “Isn’t it dangerous my dear? What if you die there? What will happen to Frank Jr. and me then?”

Frank smiled, for he knew his wife too well, “I’ve already drafted a will with Bingham & Botts, so in the event I don’t return, I have already made provisions for you two.”

“Oh”. Mrs. Frank then returned to the morning papers and her tea. Frank Jr. didn’t even say a word and continued devouring his scrambled eggs.

Unable to contain his excitement further and eager to get away from the degenerate lot, Frank headed to his room and started to pack the things he wished to bring along to Iraq. He held each article of clothing dispassionately, old fond memories forgotten in anticipation of the future.

-----

Saturday morning came and the Franks pilled into the car, Frank Jr. quiet as usual and Mrs. Frank prattling about how it was quite unfair the parish was disqualified from the yearly rose competition. Frank himself kept quiet but smiled and nodded, acting like he was listening to Mrs. Frank.

At the airport he hugged Mrs. Frank tightly and ruffled Frank Jr.’s hair. As he walked towards the immigration counter, he shouted out for Mrs. Frank to take care of herself and Frank Jr., and with a wave disappeared from view.

On board the flight to Dubai, he promptly fell asleep, awakening later only for the on board meal and then proceeding to fiddle with the amenities provided. Waiting at the Dubai airport, he couldn’t resist calling home just to hear Mrs. Frank’s voice one last time (for he did still love her as much as she didn’t love him). As Frank said that he loved her and would miss her, he could hear Mr. Williams in the background asking where the toothpaste was kept. Still having a little time to kill before his next flight, he explored the airport a little, playing with the automatic sensor taps like the little child he felt he was.

Upon reaching Iraq and clearing immigration (he told the immigration officer his occupation was as a paedophile, a pea collector), he found the directions to the market square he had seen in his dreams and took a cab to the vicinity. Getting out of the cab, he was assailed by the punishing heat of the Middle Eastern sun and headed off to find a drink from one of the many stalls there.
Finishing his route around the entire market, he walked to a corner where he continued to gulp down his bottled water. Saving a little still, he closed his eyes and emptied the contents on his person.

Around him, the sounds started to evolve from the chatter of people to the more animalistic screams of terror. Frank opened his eyes and saw the source of it; a convoy of large militaristic-looking humvees were speeding into the market square, kicking up magnificent clouds of an ochre dust – in pursuit of a dirty blue car filled with men. He turned to look behind him and saw a woman (or possibly a cross dresser) dressed in the typical black burqa, eyes shining with fear and holding on to two young children by the hand. The younger one started to cry, sensing the tension around.

As the car shot through the market square knocking over various wares, Frank took a deep breath and thought, this is it – this is my dream!, he couldn’t help but give a completely situation inappropriate grin. He popped in a polo mint as he half watched and half anticipated as the car, now a few meters away from him, failed to make a right turn for it was simply traveling at too fast a speed, slammed into a building right behind him. The car now cut Frank and the woman off from the main market. The humvees were almost within firing range. Frank turned and ran towards the woman and the children and tackled them to the ground, covering their bodies with his rather large one.

The last things Frank experienced are as follows: Felt – Wet from being peed on by one of the children; Heard – Wail of a child mixed with the sharp ratatat of the guns; Saw – The woman crying from the little window to her eyes; Smelt – Jasmine perfume that originated from the woman; Tasted – The polo mint he had been sucking.