Suicide..

[1Quik7]

Lets talk about it.

 

I'm no newbie to the subject, literally can't count the people I know who have done it or outright OD'd.

 

I've also lost a couple good friends recently to Cancer...and I've become very bitter about it.

 

Robin Williams and Anthony Bourdain are some of my favorite guys to watch, now I have animosity towards them for leaving in such a 'selfish' way.

 

 

 

Anyone else bitter on the subject?

[TTQ B4U]

I only know one person who did.

 

Bitter and selfish.....perhaps to some, but walking a day in someone else's shoes and seeing what they are going through from their own eyes will often show it's not about them being selfish. That may be part of the end result but often there are way more other things going through their minds and being selfish towards others isn't usually at the top of their list.

[2 Sweet]

Mental illness is a crazy thing. I think anyone willing to take their own life is clearly not in the right frame of mind

[Bigbird]

Mental illness is a crazy thing. I think anyone willing to take their own life is clearly not in the right frame of mind

 

This. My best friend committed suicide post high school and it really got to me. I didn't really blame him in this particular case, but I had felt that way when hearing about suicide in the media. It wasn't until I dealt with a period of depression/anxiety and saw what it did to my mind, that I really understood that when you're in that state, you're not yourself.

[Mojoe]

I'm no expert, but I've been around it a bit now. Best friend in high school tried kill himself. Then, he did every drug and drank all he could for 15 years, and I think he was in self destruct mode. His family said he cleaned up, and had a heart attack a year later. I know he had tried to kill himself a couple times. I think he did in the end.

 

One of our guys after deployment, the funny guy, killed himself a year after we were home.

 

Last month a guy I work with took his life.

 

Life has stacked up on me many times. I think it has for everyone. All the cliche', " tomorrow's a better day", it's true. Time heals, but you need to take the time to heal, and I don't think some people do that.

 

Last year I went to six funerals. Four for cancer, one for blood clot and one for a car accident. Here's what I have to say about death. It's going to happen. When my dad passed away, what I realized was that he sat in his living room for 25 years, by himself in a house in Vermont. We brought him to Ohio for treatment and he hated it here. He missed his way of life and VT. They said he was better, so we brought him home and had daily check ins with him. Four months later he passed away. The cancer had come back and was too aggressive to fight. I learned a lot last year. Live life and do what you need to to feel alive. If that means snorting a pound of coke and shoving bottle rockets up your ass, best of luck to you. Be the best person you can to help the people around you. Not everyone needs your help or wants your help. If it's not hurting others, for the most part, do your thing.

I decided I'm not going to look back and say "I wish I had......". Many people are chasing their happiness. I can't explain the calm and clarity I have felt this last year. I celebrate life. I have mourned these people not being here with me anymore. I was mad at my friend for all the drugs and drinking and likely taking his own life. For three years I tried to sort out all the things surrounding him. He lived his life. He chose. I tried to help manys times. we have great memories, and those are the stories I will share with his family.

My outlook now is to go make smiles and memories. I'm going to live and enjoy and I want those around me to be happy too.

[TTQ B4U]

My outlook now is to go make smiles and memories. I'm going to live and enjoy and I want those around me to be happy too.

 

 

 

 

^^ Well said. I remember while taking care of my father him giving me a hard time about spending money on vacations and the events we do each week with the kids. His generation was more frugal and smart but today, we are too the benefit is we make more money and can do these things. I'd be more wealthy for sure had we saved it all but I'd be less rich in a sense of fulfillment and joy; we all would and that to me is priceless. I won't put a price on happiness and joy because if I walk out the door and die tonight, at least my legacy will live on in all those memories and good times. No one I love will look at the money and say they were glad they have that in place of the good times we have had together.

[Tractor]

My wife lost her mother to suicide almost 18 years ago. She was very damaged by a sexually abusive father and the fact that one of her sister's died in this way years earlier. She was the most giving person I've ever met, was a nurse by profession and many people came to the funeral that we didn't know, but knew her. They told us, she took care of their loved one once they were sent home after the hospital she worked at could no longer help and they came home to die. She wasn't a hospice nurse, she came out of kindness and helped in any way she could.

 

We still hurt all these years later. She was very sick and completely trapped by her mental state and had been in mental hospitals from time to time throughout her life.

[Geeesammy]

What's more bitter and selfish, committing the act of suicide or judging someone for doing so without having experienced what they have going on inside their head?

[Forrest Gump 9]

It’s ok to take a step back. That’s literally and figuratively. Look for the positive things in your life and exploit that. No matter how bad your situation is, there are millions out there had it worse. Go volunteer at a hospital / homeless shelter

 

And to the OP, watch out for your pregnant wife. She’ll go thru this stage short after having the baby, so be there and be supportive.

[gillbot]

I only know one person who did.

 

Bitter and selfish.....perhaps to some, but walking a day in someone else's shoes and seeing what they are going through from their own eyes will often show it's not about them being selfish. That may be part of the end result but often there are way more other things going through their minds and being selfish towards others isn't usually at the top of their list.

 

This. I used to think it was selfish as well but my own battles have opened my eyes. It’s a tough never ending journey.

[Dammit Charlie]

I had two friends who committed suicide. One was one meds, and shouldn't have had access to a firearm.

 

The other got in a bad way with some people and felt the only way to separate himself from it was to eat a bullet. He was a great guy, just didn't know of his inner demons. Felt terrible for his wife and father.

 

Nothing is worth hurting your loved ones like that.

[Rally Pat]

This. I used to think it was selfish as well but my own battles have opened my eyes. It’s a tough never ending journey.

 

Without getting in to detail, basically the same. Used to call it cowardly...then I went through some stuff.

[Drewhop]

Beat stage 4 cancer this past september. Didnt know I had that much fight in me. Live life to its fullest.

[10phone2]

Beat stage 4 cancer this past september. Didnt know I had that much fight in me. Live life to its fullest.

 

man thats great on your part. kudos to you

[Alex L.]

It's selfish and destroys the people around you, but, at the same time, can be romanticized. I think it's crossed the mind of most logical people who have gone through rough patches, if for a flitting second. It's the ultimate way out, and the easiest way to rid yourself of all personal problems.

 

People who commit suicide without other medical catalyst (terminally ill/hospice patients, etc.) are most often mentally ill, obviously, and are, by definition, in an unhealthy/poor state of mind. This clouded judgement causes suicide to be their light at the end of the tunnel, and their source of tranquility in what they view as a tumultuous existence. However, it's a permanent fix. There is no coming back, and the toll it takes on everyone around you is immense. There is rarely suicide without fallout.

 

While life can be painful, contemptuous, despondent, or any one of a number of other descriptions, this is the one chance we all get at it, and there is almost always green grass on the other side of the hill. Even if the hill is steep, and the patch is small, it's still worth the effort to get to it.

 

I've battled depression for the past decade or more, and, to be frank, have always viewed suicide as the final option when the point of no return has been reached. I don't view it as a form of cowardice, but rather an exit strategy when there is absolutely nothing left.

 

Fortunately, I've never reached the bottom of the barrel and viewed it as a reasonable option. However, once the thought has crossed your mind with any sincerity, it's always there.

[1Quik7]

Sorry to everyone in the thread that has hit rock bottom or lost someone close...that was not my motive to call you out. Just remember you always have someone to talk to on the CR hotline @ http://www.columbusburacing.com or 1.800.273.8255

 

I've been friends with and/or known multiple individuals who have OD'd on purpose or flat out killed themselves; more than one person should (we're talking double digits).

 

This past week marked the 2nd anniversary that I lost 2 very close friends to a type of Sarcoma (30ish yrs old), but their battle took years; it was not pretty and very painful. My friends fought so hard and endured so much, that they never asked for, only to succumb to what they did not want. Death. I get angry and very bitter.

 

I guess physical pain doesn't always trump mental pain...that's just something I'll never understand.

Edited August 9, 2019 by 1Quik7

[TTQ B4U]

Beat stage 4 cancer this past september. Didnt know I had that much fight in me. Live life to its fullest.

 

 

Congrats and good for you! Dr. Greger has become a good friend and I highly recommend his book, site and way of living. Changed the way I look and feel like nothing I've ever done. Cancer can be fought and prevented with what you eat. Heart disease and diabetes can be reversed. https://nutritionfacts.org/book/

[coltboostin]

I may be in the minority, but I have always felt one could be happy in a cardboard box, or a house in the Hamptons. Happiness is an internal directive. No matter how BAD it is, it can always be worst.

 

And, there is nothing worst than being dead.

[Not Brian]

I slowly opened my eyes. My head was swimming and a dull pain surrounded my throat. I was thirsty. That was the first thing I noticed. I licked my dry lips as my surroundings faded into focus. My body ached and I realized it was because I was tightly bound to a metal chair in the middle of an empty room. The barren concrete walls were stained and dirty, the floor beneath my bare feet was cold and slightly wet.

 

A single bulb lit the room, dangling from the ceiling by a string. It cast moving shadows and I blinked back darkness. An open door stood before me, but I couldn't see anything but the wall of a hallway.

 

I tried to clear my head, tried to remember how I got here. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself not to panic. I slowed my breathing and focused my thoughts, desperately trying to summon some recollection of why I was here.

 

I couldn't remember anything.

 

I opened my eyes and exhaled, my parched throat throbbing. I could hear sound echoing off the hallway walls outside the door. Screaming, clanging, howling, all very distant but that did nothing to help calm my nerves.

 

“Hello?!” I cried, the word tearing at my vocal cords. I felt my chest hitch in pain but I cleared my throat and yelled again.

 

“Is anyone there!? Hello!?”

 

The dark hallway remained silent except for the constant echoes. I shut my mouth and tried to wriggle free of my bindings, but the rope was knotted impossibly tight. I fought back against my imagination as it flooded my mind with horrific scenarios of what awaited me. If I could only remember!

 

Suddenly, footsteps erupted from outside the door, a rapid patter of small feet. My hopes rose and I trained my attention on the door, praying it was help.

 

A young boy ran into the room, dressed in a red onsey, complete with padded feet. Stretched over his face was a plastic Devil mask. The eye holes revealed massive blue eyes that greeted me curiously. Taken back, I opened my mouth to speak but that's when I noticed something was off. His eyes were huge, impossibly round and bulging from their sockets. It sent a shiver of unease down my spine, but I shook it off. This child might be able to free me.

 

“Hey!” I hissed, urgently, “Hey kid, can you get me out of here?!”

 

The boy took a step closer, cocking his head, but remaining silent.

 

I rattled my bound arms against the chair, “Cut me free, please, I shouldn't be here, this is some kind of mistake!”

 

The boy eyed me behind his strange mask and stopped directly in front of me. He leaned in close and whispered, his voice like wet silk, “You did a bad thing...”

 

Confused, I shook my head, “No! No this is a mistake! I didn't do anything!”

 

The boy's enormous blue eyes suddenly filled with sadness, “Oh, you did a really, really bad thing...”

 

I shook my head again, violently, “No! I'm sorry! I don't remember, just please get me out of this chair!”

 

Suddenly, before either of us could speak again, a man came charging into the room. He was overweight and dressed in overalls, his grizzled face twisted in seething anger. He was holding a sawed off shotgun in his arms.

 

“I didn't do anything!” I cried as he advanced on us, my voice cracking, “I'm not supposed to be here!”

 

The big man ignored me and instead grabbed the kid and shoved him hard against the wall. The boy grunted as his back struck the concrete and his eyes rose to meet the grizzled man's.

 

Wordlessly, the man raised his shotgun, placed it against the boy's forehead, and blew his head off. Chunks of gore splattered the wall as shock slugged me in the stomach like an iron fist. My ears rang and time seemed to slow as I watched in horror as the headless body crumpled to the ground.

 

My breath rushed back into my lungs and time seemed to readjust.

 

“Jesus fucking CHRIST!” I screamed, straining against the ropes, my eyes bulging in horrific shock, “WHAT THE FUCK!?”

 

The man ignored my screams as he bent down and picked up the boy. He slung the ruined corpse over his shoulder and walked out the doorway.

 

Suddenly, the hallway erupted with malicious laughter, a chorus of voices all howling in glee. I shut my eyes, the noise deafening, as absolute terror filled my every pore.

 

After a few moments, the laughter faded and I cautiously opened my eyes, unable to believe what I had just witnessed.

 

“Hello.”

 

I jumped as I realized there was another man standing before me. He was dressed in a simple, white button down shirt and jeans. His brown hair was cut short and he appeared to be in his early thirties. His green eyes were dull and lifeless, his full lips pulled down at the corners.

 

“What is going on!? Where am I!?” I cried, new fear pooling in my stomach like hot blood.

 

The man crossed his arms, “So you're the new one huh?” He shook his head, “You people disgust me.”

 

Questions bubbled on my lips but he waved them off with a sharp chop of his hand, slicing the air and demanding my silence.

 

He ran his tongue over his teeth, sneering, “You look like you've already seen some of the horrors this place holds huh? Yes, I can tell by the look in your eyes. You're terrified. You've seen something haven't you? It doesn't seem all that bad now does it, looking back? You've been here five minutes and already you're shitting your pants.”

 

“Where am I?” I gasped, unable to hold back any longer, “What do you people want?”

 

The man crossed his arms behind his back, “I bet you want to get out of here don't you? I bet you'd like to go back to your home, your family, everything.”

 

“Please,” I interrupted, “Whatever I did to you...I'm sorry, I really am, but I don't remember!”

 

The man rolled his eyes, “You didn't do anything to me. You did it to yourself. You really don't remember anything?”

 

I shook my head and felt tears brimming in my eyes, liquid fear.

 

The man looked at me with contempt, “You waited until your wife left for work and then you went out to the woodshed and hung yourself. You're dead.”

 

The recent memory rose in my mind like a monster from a bog. My eyes went wide. As much as I wanted to deny it...he was right. I had killed myself. The incident tore through my brain like a bullet train and left me reeling.

 

“I'm Danny, by the way,” the man said, ignoring the shocked look on my face, “And I'm number two here. I run the orientation process. I want to make this quick because I'm tired of repeating this fucking thing to you pathetic Suicidals. You get one question before I begin.”

 

He stared down at me and I scrambled to organize my thoughts into something cohesive. This was all horrifying. Why had I killed myself? I fought against the fog and panic and the mists of confusion slowly began to lift. I had just lost my job. Yes...that was the start. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced more of the memory to emerge. I had lost my job and I was about to lose the house. My wife...Tess...she found out and was going to leave me. I didn't have any way out, didn't have any options. Getting fired had come out of the blue and I didn't have much in savings. I was broke, soon to be homeless, and my wife hated me for it. There was something else...yes...that's right. She had been cheating on me. I had seen texts on her phone while she slept one night and confirmed my suspicions. My life had degraded to shit and I had run out of options. Humiliated and ashamed, I had decided death was my only option.

 

“Hey, fucker, do you have a question or not?” Danny said, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

 

I was sucked back into reality and I asked the only question that mattered.

 

“Is this Hell?”

 

Danny snorted, “That's always what you people ask.” He began to pace back and forth in front of me, “No. This is not Hell. It's not Heaven either. This is the Black Farm. And no, I didn't name it that. This is where God sends the souls who have ended their own life. Suicidals. You see, he doesn't really know what to do with you...and neither does the Devil. There are genuinely good people who kill themselves. Seems cruel to banish them to Hell for all eternity for a moment of weakness right? Personally, I think God and the Devil were just tired of arguing about it. And so, they send them here, to the Black Farm.”

 

“Did...did God create this place?” I asked, growing more and more confused.

 

Danny spit on the floor, chuckling, “Sure, at some point. But he lost control of it when he put The Pig in charge.”

 

“What's The Pig?” I asked, unsure I wanted to know the answer.

 

Danny held up a hand, annoyed, “Can I fucking finish? God created this place, eons ago, put The Pig in charge, and then forgot about it for a while. Well, when his back was turned, The Pig decided to use his new powers to try and create his own little world. This mess you see around you is the fractured remains of that experiment. The Black Farm use to be a lot nicer, but The Pig wanted things to be different. He wanted to create his own vision. These people you see, these monsters? They are The Pig's attempts at creating functioning life. Instead of mirroring God's Earth, these mutated horrible creations are full of sin and hatred. They run rampant here, unabashed. This place is chaos. The Black Farm is a circus of freaks and monsters. And it's your eternity.”

 

Fear boiled in my gut like thick oil. No. No this couldn't be my end. I didn't believe in stuff like this. This wasn't real! I would wake up soon and realize I was just having a nightmare! That had to be it!

 

Danny stood before me and lightly slapped my face, “Hey, hey! Don't go into hysterics on me. I haven't finished yet.”

 

I raised my teary eyes to meet his.

 

Danny smiled, “You can always Feed the Pig.”

 

My breath pushed from my lungs like burning steam, “W-what does that mean?”

 

Danny spread his hands, still smiling, “It's as simple as that. Feed the Pig. If you do so, there's a chance he'll send you back to your life.”

 

“A-and w-what happens if it doesn't?” I bumbled.

 

“You get sent to Hell. So flip a coin if you have one. Stay here with us or Feed the Pig. If you choose to stay, I'll let you go...I'll let you go out there,” he said, pointing towards the door, “But let me assure you...what awaits you at the end of the hallway...well...let's just say Hell isn't that much worse.”

 

I swallowed hard, trying my best to digest everything. Why wouldn't I try Feeding the Pig? Whatever that meant. If there was even a sliver of hope, I would take it. An eternity in this place, the Black Farm, be sent to Hell, or...or Feed the Pig? I would do anything for a chance to go back. This nightmare made my problems seem nothing in comparison.

 

Danny raised a hand before I could speak, “I'll let you think on it a while. I'll be back later.”

[Not Brian]

“I want to Feed the Pig!” I cried, not wanting to spend another second in this awful room. I could hear a woman screaming down the hallway, her cries rising as something meaty pounded into her. My breath came in sharp pulls and my throat burned. Danny noticed the noise and grinned.

 

“Sounds pretty bad huh?” He said softly as the woman's voice creaked with agony. Something was still slamming into her, the sound of beaten flesh igniting my imagination with horrors.

 

“Please,” I gasped, breathless, “Just...just let me Feed the Pig. I don't want to stay here any longer.”

 

Danny turned away from me, “I'll be back later. Enjoy your time alone. Really think about your situation. Weigh your options. And remember...you put yourself here.”

 

And with that he was gone, leaving me in the dim room.

 

Tears streamed down my face.

 

The woman didn't stop screaming for hours.

 

At some point, I fell into a semi-sleep. The darkness in the room seemed to press in on me and my eyes fluttered shut. My body ached and my throat was a halo of fire. Thirst raked at my windpipe like sharp glass. My lips felt like crumpled paper. My head thundered like a drum. The room swam in and out of focus and my mind drifted towards the horrific sounds that never ended.

 

I was lost in a haze, unaware that something was sliding into the room until I felt a sharp prick on my big toe. I jolted out of my daze as my bare foot ignited with pain. I screamed and tried to move, but my bindings held me tight.

 

The room rushed back into focus and I blinked in agony as I felt blood trickle between my toes. I looked down for the source of pain and I felt a scream claw up my throat.

 

Staring up at me was an armless man. He slithered on the floor like a worm, his bald head scabbed and filthy. His legs were wrapped together in barbed wire, forcing him to wriggle his body to move. His eye were lidless and wide, two bloodshot white orbs that stared up at me with hungry intensity. His teeth had been removed and replaced with long screws which jutted from his bleeding gums like a broken rock formation.

 

Around his neck was a chain leash, which I followed across the floor to the open door. The end of the leash was held by a tall, naked man. His body was hairless and flabby, covered in similar scabs like his pet. A dirty bag was pulled over his head that hid his features except for a single red eye that peeked out at me from a crude cut in the cloth.

 

He stared at me and groped his engorged penis, his breath heavy and labored. As the armless man wriggled towards me again, his master started to masturbate. I screamed as the screw filled mouth bit at me again and my cries seemed to stimulate the naked man even more.

 

“Get off of me! Stop it!” I screamed, horrified. I tried to kick at the man, doing my best to avoid his sharp metal teeth. I brought my heel down on his head and he screamed as his face bounced off the floor.

 

A moan of pleasure escaped the bagged man's mouth and I turned away as a mist of black sprayed out onto the floor. There was a rattle of chains and I turned back to see the two of them leaving, the armless man dragged by his neck out the door. I looked at where the bagged man had ejaculated and saw a puddle of dead ants. I vomited onto myself, thick chunky curtains of bile and slime.

 

“GET ME OUT OF HERE!” I screamed, strands of puke running down my chin, “I DON'T BELONG HERE!”

 

I listened to the two men retreat down the hallway, the clank of chains accompanied by the sound of flesh being dragged across the concrete. I screamed again, but I knew no one was going to help me. I spit a wad of phlegm and bile onto the floor, ridding my mouth of its sourness. I forced myself to calm down. It wasn’t easy.

 

After some time, I heard someone else approaching. I had been in a miserable lull, my mind a blank canvas of dark despair, but the noise roused me from my trance like state. The muscles in my arms burned from being restrained for so long and I shifted them desperately, trying my best to prepare myself for whatever horror was about to walk through the door.

 

Footsteps drew closer and then a woman walked into the room. She stopped at the doorway and looked at me. One of her eyes was missing, a dark cavernous hole in her skull. Her hair was ratty and wild, a brown tangle like a forgotten nest. Her skin was pale and filthy and she was dressed in rags. I couldn’t tell how old she was, but there was maturity in her one good eye.

 

“Still thinking?” She asked, her voice course and brittle.

 

“What?”

 

She took a step closer, “Are you still deciding whether you’re going to Feed the Pig or not?”

 

I looked at her cautiously, “Yeah…I am. Who are you? What do you want?”

 

“I was once where you are now,” She said, “trying to decide my fate. I couldn’t believe that this was what happened…what happened after we die. It wasn’t what I was taught…religion didn’t warn me about this place.”

 

I tested my bindings again before asking, “You killed yourself too? You’re a person like me? You’re not one of those…those creations?”

 

She snorted, “Breaks my heart you have to ask, though,” she touched the hole where her eye should have been, “Though I can understand your caution. Yeah, I’m a Suicidal. I’ve been here a long, long time. But that was my choice. I decided to chance it here.”

 

I motioned with my head towards the door, “What’s out there? What is all this?”

 

She exhaled heavily and leaned against the wall, “I can’t even begin to describe this place. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen. You walk down that hallway and go out…into it…and…” she swallowed, “You’d have to see it to understand.”

 

“How bad is it? Why are all these mutated people hurting and killing each other?” I asked.

 

She let her head loll back against the wall, “It would take years for you to fully understand this place. Years you don’t have. Right now you have to make a decision. Stay or Feed the Pig. They tell me Hell is worse than here, but it can’t be by much. Monsters and Suicidals roam the Black Farm…killing, raping, brutalizing…and then you wake up and wonder how long you can survive before something else kills you. It’s an endless cycle.”

 

“So why did you stay?” I pressed, “Why didn’t you Feed the Pig? I don’t even know what that means, but I would do anything for a chance to go back. I can’t stay here, I…I just can’t!”

 

She smiled sadly at me, “Why? Why did I choose this? It’s simple really. I’m a coward. I was a coward when I was alive and I’m a coward in death. When it came down to it, when the moment presented itself, I chose to stay here. I didn’t know what awaited me outside. It boiled down to a simple choice fueled by my own fear.”

 

“What is The Pig? What does it do to you?” I pressed.

 

She suddenly turned to go, “I’m afraid that’s for you to find out. But let me warn you. Think hard before you make a decision. Sometimes suffering through your fear is better than suffering for eternity. Be brave.”

 

“What do I do!?” I yelled, shaking in my chair as she walked out the door.

 

She paused and took one last look over her shoulder. Her eyes darted around and she dropped her voice to a whisper, “Feed the Pig.”

 

And with that she was gone.

 

I sat in silence once again. My mind was spinning, desperately turning over my options. I still couldn’t fully understand the situation I was in. It was too much, too overwhelming. The other side of death wasn’t supposed to be like this. I didn’t know what I had expected, but it wasn’t this nightmare. Questions crashed over my mind like cold waves onto a sinking ship. How was I supposed to make a choice when I didn’t even know what my actions entailed?

 

This place, the Black Farm…I couldn’t stay here. But what if I went to Hell? What if I didn’t get sent back? I would be out of the fire and into the frying pan. My existence would forever be damned to unending misery. Here though…here there were people like me. Suicidals. It wasn’t all monsters and mutilated murderers. Maybe I could hole up somewhere with them, try to scrape together a passable existence. Surely that would be better than getting sent to Hell!

 

No. No this wasn’t going to be how I spent my eternity. I refused to let it be. If there was even the slightest sliver of hope, I would take it. I didn’t want to wonder what could have been. I didn’t want to be tormented by doubt. I would Feed the Pig and accept whatever fate chose for me. When I boiled it down, that was the only option left.

 

I would Feed the Pig.

 

“Hey! Hello!? Danny!” I yelled, rattling in my chair. “I’ve made my decision! Danny!”

 

After a couple seconds, I heard footsteps echo down the hall towards me.

 

Danny walked through the doorway, an annoyed look on his face.

 

“I’ve made my choice,” I said, “I’m going to Feed the Pig.”

 

“Sounds like you’ve really thought a lot about it since I left you,” Danny said sarcastically.

 

I licked my lips, “You’d do the same thing if you were in my place.”

 

Danny walked behind me, “I was in your place once. And I chose differently.” My eyes widened and then Danny wrapped my entire head with a strip of thin cloth, blinding me. I sucked in as much air as I could, but each lungful felt empty.

 

I felt Danny cut me free from the chair and my body sighed as my stiff muscles were released. I rolled my shoulders as my hands were released and I moaned with relief. I dug my fingers into my back and I stretched, my bones creaking.

 

“Keep your blindfold on and follow me,” Danny said, pulling me up.

 

My legs shook as I put weight on them, my thighs trembling after their long cemented position. I groped blindly in front of me and found Danny’s shoulder. I rested my hand on it as he walked us out of the room.

 

As we entered the hallway, I could suddenly hear sound I hadn’t before. The clank of metal, a long fleshy tearing noise, something vomiting…these sounds sprang to life in my ears, painting the darkness before my eyes with imaginary scenes of horror. I gripped Danny’s shoulder tighter, stumbling behind him, my heart thundering.

 

I heard something trailing behind us, but Danny didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t care. Flesh slapped the concrete mere inches behind me and I suddenly felt hot breath on my neck and the click of a wet tongue against gums. My breathing became even more labored as fear choked me.

 

“Go’in ta feed da piggy are ya?” Something whispered in my ear. I felt something press against the back of my head and I tried not to think about what it might be. It was wet and slimy and I heard the thing chuckle.

 

“Ee’s a ‘ungry piggy, you make shor’ ee gets iz meal now,” the thing whispered again, its voice low and unlike anything I had ever heard before. It was like a series of grunts and moans jumbled together to form broken words.

 

To my relief, I heard the thing retreat back to wherever it had come from and I continued to follow Danny. He remained silent as we walked and I could feel shifts in the air. The thick heat gave way to a cooler, almost pleasant temperature, but then it kept decreasing and soon I was shivering violently against the cold. I couldn’t see anything but I felt a breeze on my face, like we were outside. I didn’t hear Danny open any doors, but nothing about this place was natural. It was like reality blurred and bled into itself, like reels of film melting together.

 

Teeth chattering, I was suddenly blasted with intense heat and I gasped. My feet tripped over themselves as the terrain changed and I was suddenly walking on what felt like warm iron. My ears were filled with the sound of blazing furnaces and the clash of working machinery. I couldn’t see it, but I felt like there was a vast open expanse overhead. I smelled ash and tasted dirt on my tongue, sweat already forming along my spine.

 

Suddenly, I crashed into Danny as he came to a halt. I backed up a few paces, quickly, and muttered my apologies. I could hear movement in front of us, a rustle of chains and an odd clicking sound on the metal floor. Something else too...something...snorting.

 

And then the room filled with a deafening sound of an immense pig squealing. I covered my ears, head splitting at the high pitched wail. I grit my teeth as the noise echoed off the metal and faded into a series of snorts and grunts.

 

It sounded absolutely enormous.

[Not Brian]

“I've brought another one,” Danny announced, a slight tinge of respect lining his voice. “He wants to Feed the Pig.”

 

I waited, expecting to hear some answer, the cloth around my eyes sealing my sight to darkness. I realized my knees were shaking and my back was coated in sweat. I was terrified.

 

“If that is what you wish,” Danny said and I felt him bow under my hand. Apparently some unseen conversation had just happened and Danny took my wrist and pushed me forward.

 

“Approach The Pig,” he instructed.

 

My whole body trembled and my knees locked into place. Robbed from sight, I raised my hands, trying to get my bearings, the heat and ash filling my head with nausea. I felt like I was going to throw up, my stomach rolling like a dead sea. I didn't know where I was or what horror lay before me. I felt lost and tiny, a fresh splash of tears dripping from my eyes and soaking into the cloth around my face.

 

“P-please,” I begged, “Let me see what's happening.”

 

Danny was suddenly behind me, pushing me forward. He guided my hands towards something as we stepped together in unison. Even with the cloth around my face, I could see a giant mass of towering darkness before me. It was a spot of black on an already darkened canvas.

 

As we walked forward, I was suddenly assaulted by a horrendous smell and I gagged, turning away. Danny's grip tightened and forced me to continue. I could sense something just in front of me, a living shifting mass of flesh. The smell increased to a wretched level and I gagged again. Then hot air was being blown on my face, a blast of heat that came in repeated short bursts.

 

I vomited into my cloth, the source of the smell stemming from the hot air. I choked as the bile gushed over the fabric, soaking it and momentarily cutting off my oxygen. Danny slapped my hands away and I took a few seconds to steady my breathing again. I was opening crying now, fear and misery collapsing my willpower.

 

The wet cloth stunk as I sucked in soggy breaths. My own stomach acid coated my skin and I begged for all of this to be over.

 

And then something squealed directly in front of me.

 

I felt my bladder go. I was standing before The Pig.

 

It was the source of darkness in my obscured vision; a fat, titanic creature that filled my senses with every breath it blew into my face.

 

Danny raised my hands and suddenly I was touching The Pig's snout. I recoiled immediately, but Danny forced my hands back. Its fur was stiff and brittle and as my shaking hands explored up its nose, the size of the animal became clear to me.

 

It was gigantic and had weight over a ton. Its flesh wiggled under my sweating hands and it opened its mouth slightly. My fingers curled around teeth the size of kitchen knives and I realized its mouth was absolutely cavernous.

 

The Pig squealed again and I heard its hooves clack against the ground. It sounded like thunder rolling across an open field in the middle of summer.

 

“Take this blindfold off, please,” I begged, my legs turning to jelly.

 

Danny had taken a few steps back and I heard reverence in his voice, “You don't want to do that.”

 

I jumped as The Pig nudged me with its nose, the wet circle of flesh squishing against the length of my face. I shuddered away, raising my hands and omitting a cry of fear.

 

“Feed the Pig,” Danny instructed, his voice like cold steel now. “You made your choice. Now live with it. It's the only chance you have of going back. Or maybe The Pig won't like how you taste and send you to Hell. Only one way to find out.”

 

My eyes widened behind the vomit soaked cloth, “Won't...like...how I taste?!”

 

“Climb into its mouth.”

 

My bladder let go again and I felt warm piss run down my leg, “N-no...no you can't mean...”

 

Danny's voice hardened, “Climb into its mouth and don't stop crawling forward until its done with you.”

 

“P-please,” I begged, turning towards Danny's voice, reaching out blindly, “Please there has to be some other way...don't make me do this!” I was a mess of snot and tears, my words bumbling from my mouth like a toddler.

 

Danny stepped forward and spun me back to face The Pig, “DO IT! You made your choice! It will all be over soon! This is your only CHANCE!”

 

I could feel The Pig breathing onto my face, its snout mere inches from mine. The smell and heat it omitted made me want to vomit again but I held it back. This was insane, this wasn't happening. My mind spun and twisted in chaos and fear. There had to be some other way. I couldn't do this, I COULD NOT do this!

 

Suddenly I remembered the words of the woman: Sometimes suffering through your fear is better than suffering for eternity. Be brave.

 

This was my only chance to get back to the world of the living. I had made such a terrible mistake in killing myself. If I could go back and change my life, I wouldn't have to spend eternity here. I could change my ways, ensure a spot somewhere else. Somewhere away from The Pig. But what if it decided to send me to Hell? How much more suffering could I endure?

 

I had to take the chance.

 

“Please, God,” I whispered, taking a step forward, “If you can hear me...please...have mercy on me.”

 

My shaking hands reached out for The Pig and I grasped its thick fur. I felt it slowly lower its head and open its mouth. It was waiting for me, its thick, hot breath stinking in my nostrils. This was it. No turning back now.

 

I slowly gripped its teeth and pulled myself forward into its jaws. Its head was at a downward angle and so I immediately fell onto my stomach at a forty-five degree angle. Its wet tongue squished under me and I was shaking so hard I could barely breath. Tears soaked my blindfold and my heart crunched against my ribs.

 

I slowly reached forward and found another tooth to grab onto. Gritting my teeth, I pulled my body inward past my knees. The Pig raised its head and I was suddenly completely horizontal on its tongue.

 

Saliva and mucus dripped around me and the heat was so intense I almost blacked out. My knees clacked against its front teeth as I pulled myself even deeper. Its inner cheeks pressed in around me, squeezing my body like a soaking fleshy coffin.

 

Crying, terrified, I reached ahead of me and found more teeth. I pulled myself deeper into its mouth and I felt my feet slide past its lips. My whole body was coated in slime and I openly wept, grasping in the darkness for another tooth.

 

And that's when The Pig started to chew on me.

 

I screamed in crushing agony as my body was compressed between its massive teeth. I heard my legs snap instantly and felt wet bone pop from my skin. I shook violently as my body spasmed in shock, a mangled twist of blood and pain.

 

Its tongue shifted me in its mouth and I felt it bite down on my shoulder. My eyes bulged in their sockets as I howled, a hot pillar crunching down on my collar bone. I threw up violently, unable to control myself, the pain overwhelming.

 

Keep crawling.

 

Screaming, bloodshot eyes rolling wildly, I reached forward with my good arm, wetly searching for another tooth. I grit my teeth, blood squirting between them, as my fingers wrapped around something solid.

 

The Pig bit down again, its tongue twisting my body so its molars could snap down on my knees. The pain brought darkness, but my howling screams forced my eyes to remain open.

 

“JESUS MAKE IT STOP!” I bellowed, my trembling hand still gripping the tooth ahead of me, “PLEASE MAKE IT FUCKING STOP!”

 

I ground my teeth together so hard they cracked, screaming as I slowly pulled my body deeper into the mouth.

 

Something was changing, the tights walls of its throat squeezed my head and I realized I was almost through.

 

“COME ON YOU MOTHERFUCKER! COME ON!” I begged, vocal cords cracking. I reached ahead of me and grabbed onto a thick wad of flesh. My head felt like it was splitting and The Pig bit down on me again.

 

I gasped, blood exploding from my mouth in a great gush of red.

 

It had pierced through my stomach, obliterating my insides like bloated noodles. Darkness rushed in on me and I was in too much shock to even scream.

 

With the last of my strength, right as the blackness took me, I pulled myself forward one last time and felt myself slide down its throat.

 

Darkness. Falling...screaming. I was screaming. Heat. Heat so intense I thought I would melt. Clanging. Something was hammering on a metal. Colors and images flew past me so quickly I could only make out their shape. Blood poured into my eyes.

 

I felt like I would keep falling forever.

 

Suddenly, my eyes snapped open and I was falling, my breath rushing back into my lungs in a great wave of purity. My face bounced off wood floor and I cried out as I felt my nose break. I tasted blood and saw stars.

 

I had stopped falling.

 

There was a ring of burning fire around my throat and I felt impossibly thirsty.

 

I was lying on the floor.

 

I slowly opened my eyes again and the darkness began to fade like morning mist under a hot sun. Colors blended together and shapes came into focus.

 

I was in my woodshed.

 

I reached up around my throat and grasped at the source of heat. It was the rope I had hung myself with, but now it was severed, releasing me from the grip of death.

 

Relief rolled over me in overwhelming waves of thanks. I curled up on the floor and sobbed, tears dripping from my eyes onto the dirty floor. My body shook, unbroken, as I wept, wet horse cries rising from my quivering lips.

 

I had been spared. I was alive again.

 

From my spot on the floor, I turned my eyes upward, my voice cracking, “Thank you God. Oh thank you.” I fell into another fit of uncontrollable sobbing, “I promise I won't waste my life again. I promise I'll make things right, I'll fix everything.”

 

I don't know how long it was before I got up. Time seemed to stretch for eternity. My mind refused to rebuild, the horrors of what I had just witnessed crushing me.

 

But I knew I would do everything I could to make the most out of my life. I was going to live every day to the fullest. I would devote myself to helping others in dark times. I would reach out to as many Suicidals as I could and try to save them from awaited on the other side.

 

I didn't want anyone else to have to witness the horrors of suicide.

 

I didn't want anyone else to have to Feed the Pig.