***
He loved to complain. It was impulsive; word vomit. He didn't even know when he was doing it. All he knew recently was that when life started to take a slight toll on him, complaining was his one reliable way of relief.
He complained to basically anyone who would listen. He complained to his wife and children. He complained to his friends. He complained to his colleagues. He even tried complaining to his boss, though after that incident, he ended up having even more to complain about.
He could complain about absolutely anything. His wife often joked about him, saying that they lived in reverse gender roles (which he would promptly complain about). When it rained, he would complain. When it was sunny, he complained. When things were wrong, he complained about how they should be right. When things were right, he complained about how boring they were. He even complained about not having anything to complain about, though that was very rare. It was so addictive, so relieving; every time his brain would be flushed with dopamine. His friends slowly grew tired of him. His wife slowly grew tired of him. His children slowly grew tired of him.
One day, he complained about how one of his friends wouldn't listen to his ranting. The friend left without a word. So he went to another friend and complained about that one. After being shot a dark look, he was left alone again. Everyday, a few more of the people he knew would leave him. Eventually, so did his wife. She took full custody of the children, alerting the judge that he was a bad influence, and needed professional help. He didn't even try to defend himself. All he did was complain about how the whole thing was quite unfair.
Slowly, he lost everything he'd built up in his life. He no longer had anyone to complain to, but he had everything to complain about. So he complained to himself. About himself. He told himself how stupid he was, and how nobody liked him. He told himself that he wasn't needed; that nobody could love him.
A week ago, he decided one evening that this world could do without so much complaining.
*
He woke up lying on a bed very foreign to him, in a room he'd never seen. The door opened and a nurse walked in. She smiled tentatively.
"How are you feeling?"
"My body is aching! Damn, this bed is so hard! Why am I still alive? Was my balcony too low? Or was the ground too soft?"
***
The mood I attempted to create here was one of irony and tragedy, and it was meant to leave you feeling really weird and incomplete. So, did it work? I think it was a bit too long to give the proper effect, but share your thoughts, please!
Wow, this is really good. It's definitely dark and sad, especially near the end. I think the cliffhanger actually worked out pretty well. Nice irony too, by the way. Really good :)
ReplyDeletehm. Kind of fable-esque, no? Lessons learnt. And nice job with the ending. ;D
ReplyDeleteThanks to both of you! Oh, I guess it is kind of fable-esque. That wasn't the intended effect at all, but hopefully it worked.
ReplyDeleteAlso notice that the sentence before the star was a borrowed variation of Hannah's last sentence in her SC "Sundays". (I hope you don't mind, but it was a really good ending, and I really wanted to use it.)
I realized that actually - of course I don't mind!
ReplyDeleteIt is sadistic if I laughed at the end? The very end, where he says "Why am I still alive? Was my balcony too low? Or was the ground too soft?"
ReplyDeleteIt reminded me of (a site with) these funny quotes from stupid customers. They complain a lot, too.
Yes, Yaning, it is very, very sadistic. Maybe you should go and see a therapist?
ReplyDeleteNah, as long as you aren't laughing at my poor writing skills, it's all good...
In my defense, it was just that line. I mean, it was meant to be ironic, right? [I find irony and sarcasm too funny for my own good.]
ReplyDeleteAnd the paragraph before that was tragic (except I have this nasty habit of reading too quickly when I know something is about to happen, which means I don't absorb it all on the first try. Some things you have to read slowly.). So your writing skills are definitely NOT poor. : )