⚠️ TW: Suicide ⚠️

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Numb.

That was all I could feel. That was all anyone could feel. Unless. Unless you bought from the seller. He traveled from town to town selling and making profit.

He was in town today.

The pieces jingle in my pocket as I made my way through the crowd. People love the seller. His long white beard and tall hat stuck out in the crowd. He stood on a wood block shouting to all those in hearing distance.

“Come one, come all,” he pauses as they look upon him, “pick and choose what you need to feel today, no more numbness, no more suffering—” He’s drowned out by others cheering and screaming. I put my head down and moved through the rest of the crowd. The shop. Must get to the shop. Before— no don’t think about that.

More people moved into me, pushing and pulling me around.

Move. Move I say!

I pushes right back at them and stumbled into the shop. Finally. The jingle of bottle is all I am hear as I read through the haze of people.

Anger, no

Jealously, no

Happiness, no

Where is it where is it?!

I need to find it, my life depended on it, or death. Which ever way you want to see it as.

And finally I see it.

In.

Another.

Persons.

Hand.

No no no, that can’t happen.

Pushing

Shoving

Give it here!

I’ve got it!

The man reaches and grabs, but it’s too late. The clear blue liquid is down my throat. I let my hand fall as I wallow in the emotion. I look down to read what the vile had said.

Sadness, yes.

Men scream and viles fly.

“That man! Right there!”

Running is all I can recall now. Out out out and away. And then

And then off the edge.

Black swallows me whole as the ground rushes up to meet my head.