Trigger warning: This story contains suicide.
This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but I've decided to split it into 2 parts since the second part was giving me a lot of trouble with editing.
Time heals wounds – or so they say. Over these long, excruciating years, my wounds have only worsened and will only continue to do so. Every time I ventured down memory lane, it was as if I tore open a recently healed scar. I had unsuccessfully tried to move on, so I've resolved to suppress my memories in attempt to cope with my loss. On the surface, it may have appeared to abate my misery, but I felt I was breaking down on the inside as each day passed. My memories brought about an odd comfort, yet they also haunted me with anguish.
About nine years ago, my childhood friend had committed suicide. It had always felt like an eternity since then, and every moment that passed was painful. I deluded myself into believing we had never met, but it had only hurt me even more. Oliver…that was a name I hadn't muttered since the day he left this world.
Today was the day I had so anxiously waited for. Exactly 20 years ago, my childhood friend and I buried a time capsule and promised to open it together on this very day. It was supposed to be a joyous day for us to reminisce together, but instead, I would mourn over the carefree days that have long since passed. I was conflicted at the idea of opening the time capsule alone, but I knew I had to keep my end of the promise; after all, it was the reason I forced myself to endure all these years of sorrow.
Although I always could have opened the time capsule before today, I still wanted to keep my promise. All these years of waiting had been painful, but I've waited for his sake. I wanted to do one last thing for him. I wanted to absolve myself from these feelings of guilt.
This promise alone was what had fettered me from ending my life after he had taken his own. He was my only friend, and my family merely just tolerated my existence. My coworkers wouldn't have cared either if I disappeared; in fact, they'd be quite pleased to finally have me replaced. There was no one who would care nor mourn once I was gone.
Suddenly, my phone's alarm went off, which broke my train of thoughts. I grimaced as I searched for that jarringly loud device amongst a pile of trash I didn't bother to throw away. Once found, I rolled my eyes at the useless words displayed on the screen: Amber Alert. Without bothering to read any further, I turned off the phone and let out an annoyed sigh. Emergency or not, I wasn't going to let that stop me from carrying out my plans.
"I don't need this nuisance anymore…" I grumbled as I threw the phone back into the pile of trash, where it belonged. I only ever carried around that irritating device to keep in touch with my uncaring coworkers, but it won't be needed anymore. Soon, I will no longer exist.
I rummaged through my desk's drawers and pulled out a small, metallic box. Inside of it contained the very same object that had ended his life years ago – a semi-automatic pistol. Soon, I will end my life in the same way that he had. I grabbed the pistol and a cartridge and stuffed them into my coat pocket.
With the gun and ammunition in my pockets, I took the shovel and headed out to the location of the time capsule. I quietly walked through the halls of the apartment complex and hoped that no one would see me carrying a shovel for I wanted to avoid their questioning stares. This was an old, worn-down apartment occupied by nosy, judgmental tenants. The old, creaking floorboards did not help with my attempts of being discreet as I made my way out of the building.
I sighed in relief as I exited through the backdoor of the apartment and walked towards my car in the parking lot. The car I had was old and prone to failure, but it hard served me well for many years. I placed the shovel on the seat next to me and started the car. The engine started up slowly in the cold, harsh weather.
The ride from the apartment to the forest where the time capsule was buried was long and monotonous. The long stretch of road was unchanging with dreary, repetitive scenery. There were many times where I was nearly lulled into sleep. It was difficult to stay awake, so I occupied myself with reminiscing over the past.
Oliver and I had known each other since grade school. Back then, I was subjected to bullying everyday due to my albinism. My extremely pale skin and red eyes led to some of my classmates calling me "demon" and the like. Some people kept their distance from me out of fear. He was the only one who approached me without any fear nor malice. It didn't take long for me to warm up to him, and we quickly became inseparable.
Oliver wasn't exactly popular, but he did have other friends; however, he spent more time with me than the rest of his friends. He was my only friend, but I didn't care as long as he was by my side. Every moment I spent with him allowed me to forget the loneliness of my life.
My close friendship with Oliver was also met with some opposition. With their unwelcoming glares, his parents made it apparent that they didn't like me very much; my unsightly appearance had often conjured up such unpleasant reactions. His brother didn't seem to mind me, but we never talked much. I always met up with Oliver without his parents' knowledge, and we usually went to my house to hang out since my parents were rarely home.
At home, my parents rarely cared for me and were mostly away on business trips. We had always exchanged as few words as possible and went about our days, just tolerating each other's presences. I was grateful that they ignored me rather than abuse me, unlike my classmates. Sometimes I wondered that perhaps my parents didn't truly hate me since they did provide food and shelter for me.
Over time, I realized that what I felt was more than just friendship. At first, I had difficulty coming to terms with my emotions and thought I was mistaking our closeness for love. I was also hesitant to tell Oliver about what I felt since he was important to me, and I didn't want to lose the only person I cared about.
As I continued to ponder in my recollections, I reached the forest where we buried the time capsule. I stopped my car at the forest entrance, grabbed the shovel and headed towards the direction of the unkempt path. The forest was just as how I remembered it 20 years ago – cold and constantly foggy with endless redwood trees. It had always been colder than the surrounding areas, but the bitterness of the winter weather added to it.
Even though it had been 20 years since the time capsule was buried, I remembered quite vividly where it was located. I recalled as if it were just yesterday when Oliver had enthusiastically picked one of the largest trees in the forest to bury our time capsule under. He was the one who came up with the idea of putting together a time capsule to commemorate our friendship. To help us recognize the tree we picked, we carved our names onto the tree trunk just above the spot the time capsule was embedded in.
I walked until I saw the massive tree with the tell-tale carvings etched into it. The tree trunk was charred, perhaps from a recent forest fire, but otherwise our engravings were still noticeable. This tree had withstood the test of time and multiple forest fires. A real trooper, as Oliver would say. I gently traced my hand onto our engraved names and sighed. The memories from years long gone came rushing back to my stream of thoughts. The more pleasant the memory was, the more dejected I became since I knew I'd never be as happy again.
With some slight uneasiness, I pushed back the memories and started digging at the spot right in front of the engravings. The dirt had become callous from the cold air of winter. Blisters formed on my hands, but I pressed on and continued digging – I was quite anxious to unearth the time capsule.
After I burrowed about a meter deep into the ground, a loud, abrasive clanging sound echoed as the shovel struck a tin box. The time capsule wasn't buried as deeply as I remembered. Perhaps it only seemed deeper back then as I was smaller.
I reached into the hole and took out a small tin box. It was old, rusted, and showed signs of aging; the time capsule had a nostalgic feel to it. It was difficult to not get emotional over the sight of this relic. Oddly enough, I could not remember the contents of the box even though I could very clearly recall burying it. Maybe I was more focused on the events rather than the objects themselves.
For moments, I simply stood there and gazed longingly at the time capsule. In my hands was the very object that I had so anxiously waited for. It felt like an eternity since the day we buried this box. I was curious about what was inside, but shook off the curiosity. I needed to bring this to Oliver first. With the shovel and time capsule in my hands, I started to returned to my car.
As I headed towards the end of the forest, I noticed it had started snowing again. The snow itself didn't bother me so much as did the rapid drop in temperature. I shivered as my hands and ears started to get numb from the cold, so I quickened my pace.