Darkness

WARNING: This post may be graphic for some.





I heaved a sigh as I pushed my chair away from the desk. I had just gotten into a groove when the tones went off. It hadn't been a good day and I wasn't looking forward to going on any calls. The dispatch stopped me in my tracks. Attempted suicide.

Every nerve ending in my body pulsed and a dark cloud planted itself firmly over my head. With the address only two streets down, I parked on the corner and waited. Tiny beads of sweat popped up on my forehead and prickled the back of my neck. Cursing under my breath I was anxious to get inside the house and do whatever needed to be done. My mind flashed back to a class I had taken. What should I say? What questions should I ask?

The sirens in the distance broke my concentration. It wasn't long before the lights joined the siren as they turned down the street. Greg and Jo were there, my thoughts weren't the only thing to keep me company anymore. Greg turned and started walking up the drive. The knot in my stomach tightened and the back of the throat started aching with dread. Jo and I filed into the back door right behind Greg, the unwavering veteran. Knowing he was there bolstered my confidence and steadied my hand.

The door swung open to reveal a man in his late 40's staring dismally at the kitchen table. His head rested in his hands and tears silently make streaks down his pale cheeks. He didn't move, he didn't speak, he barely even breathed. He just pointed to the stairs and flatly said, "downstairs." The word hung in the air dimming my optimism and sending my heart racing in my chest.

Greg turned and the click of his flashlight signaled our descent into the stairwell. My head buzzed as I stepped slowly and gingerly on each step. The paint chipped and worn away revealing tired and rotting wood beneath. Each step screeched, piercing the silence and mocking our intentions. Cans of homemade applesauce and summer peaches glinted beneath the thin layers of dust. Each one carefully placed on the hand crafted shelving unit that lined the wall, contrasting the other side that was veiled by a black sheet hung on thin wire.

Time slowed to a painful pace and I felt as though I had stepped in a puddle of tar and glue. I struggled to convince my feet to move towards the unknown behind the curtain. Greg smoothly stepped forward, his flashlight sending a beam through the black of the basement, a spotlight for little particles as they danced through the air. Jo, gingerly followed close behind while I manned my post with the gear and my frozen feet at the bottom of the stairway.

I could feel the telltale burn of vomit threatening to rise to my lips and I swallowed hard. Greg pulled the curtain back and his flashlight illuminated the face as if there was a light that was turned on inside of it. I choked back the scream of terror that almost passed my lips. My body shook with silent sobs of shock, horror and sadness and yet I couldn't look away. A thin trail of frozen drool and vomit ran between his lips and his chest. His eyes half closed swayed every so slightly as his body shifted from the weight it bore on the line. Jo reached for a pulse and years of horror movies flashed in my mind as I braced myself for this face to snap at her fingers, suddenly coming to life.

"Cancel the crew. No one else comes down here except the police."

Greg's voiced chased away the scene that was replaying in my head. A cold race of a shudder ran up my spine leaving gooseflesh in it's wake. I turned and slowly retraced my path up the steps that were now strangely silent. The weight of the heavy jump kit doing its best to pull the memories from my head failed as I trudged back to the sad kitchen. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and made my face blank as I reached for the door handle to welcome the sun on my face and brave the questions in the eyes of the family.

He was long gone. There was nothing to do except to document the tragety and try to forget.