Suicide no. 67: Ten Minutes

Suicide no. 67: Ten Minutes

Classic Clock

(Image taken from HERE)

–by Derek Alan Wilkinson

Ten minutes is all it took.

He started in with his typical rant about where I’d been. He knows. Five years we’ve been together, but he’s aware of where I’m at and what I’m up to when he works late.

It’s a shame that he knew, and a much bigger one that I couldn’t stop.

The conversation started innocuous. Then, something different happened. He shook while he yelled at the top of his lungs. His face was covered in a different kind of panic: like he knew something bad was about to happen.

“This ends here,” he said to me, defiantly.

“Okay” is all I responded with, failing to realize that he wasn’t just leaving me.

With a pistol in his hand I’d never seen before, I was too speechless to even have a chance to tell him to stop—he just did it.

And then, I screamed.

In the ten minutes it took to try to keep things the way they were, I could’ve talked him back into sanity. Like I said: He didn’t just leave me that day.

He left everybody else, too.

Inspired by:


2 thoughts on “Suicide no. 67: Ten Minutes

  1. Wow, powerful. Like am overhand right to the senses! I loved the line “his face was covered in a different kind of panic” let´s us know he has shown instability before, yet this time was different. Got yourself a new fan, my friend.

  2. Reblogged this on Ros Nazilli and commented:
    Okay so I am doing a ‘The Post That Caught My Eye’ feature on my other (erotica) blog, so I may as well do one here as well.
    Every day, when I check the blogs I follow, I will reblog anything that stands out.
    Just one each day on each blog.

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