I stood on the chair as I wrapped the noose around my neck. I know that hanging is an archaic and disturbing way to die but I don't like sharp objects and don't know of anyone with a gun. Besides, this seems like the better way to depart this life.
I am not doing this because of the life God gave me but because of what I made my life. I had always wanted someone like Amber in my life. We met shortly before I graduated from college. She was a lovely girl of five foot nine with long curly hair, wide brown eyes, upturned nose and small mouth. She was born in Germany and lived the first three years of her life there.
We met when we were partnered up in our Advanced Politics class. We learned that we shared the same views and struck up a relationship. It was her voice. Her voice was music to my ears though I honestly don't know why. She smoked constantly and her voice was grating. To me it was beautiful.
Our dates were tailored to both of our interests both physical and intellectual and I, and from what I gathered, her, could forsee our lives together. She made me appreciate the little things a little bit more and for the first time I balked at making love to her based on making sure we were ready, the built-up passion and not wanting to disappoint. When we did first make love it was beautiful and brilliant. We laid in each other's arms for hours after we climaxed and she silently dozed as I went from looking at her to the ceiling. When she awoke at about two in the morning, we continued to make love until dawn. Two months later, we professed our love for each other and I bought an engagement ring, hoping to soon propose to Amber Phillips.
Amber's sister April was of dubious reputation. She was ungodly beautiful with Amber's light brown curly hair and upturned nose. Freckles followed the contours of her cheeks and across the nose. Her eyes were dark, yet sparkled green and her body was more buxom than that of Amber despite April standing at a petite five foot four.
I had been given a key to the apartment that Amber and April shared. I had entered the apartment and walked in on April sitting on the couch with her robe open to reveal herself as being in her underwear. She was apparently just sitting there and turned to look at me. She smiled at me and we made eye contact as I made my way to Amber's bedroom and waited for her return by reading.
April came in shortly, robe closed and tied. She sat on the edge of the bed and struck up a conversation on the book I was reading. April was remarkably well-read for the type of girl she was. In the short time that we talked, we developed an instant connection with each other. She then began rubbing my thigh so I politely asked her to stop. She gave a smile and bit her bottom lip. She brushed her hand onto me and let her robe fall slightly open to expose her breasts. A part of me wanted to push April away yet another part seemingly pulled her toward me. April had climbed on top of me, looking down and smiling. She parted her lips and whispered just before she kissed me: 'What Amber doesn't know, won't hurt us.'
The first time was amazing. April did things that Amber would never dare. We ended up tangled up in Amber's sheet, exhausted from our heated fervor. Our affair was cautious but was bogged down with scheduled trysts. As Amber fell more in love with me, and I with her, I began feeling guilty over my ardent passion to April. I could never love April due to her promiscuity--she would regulary see other men when I was not available--but that did not stop me from wining, dining and bedding her. She became a good friend with benefits and I started to truly care for her but despite my feelings for her, I regarded her as slightly better than a whore. I decided, on the eve of my marriage proposal to Amber, to end it. I broke my habit of immediately leaving April that night but as I cradled her in my arms, she began sobbing. I held her tighter and kissed her forehead. April then told me she was pregnant.
I pushed her off and away from me and began yelling at her. I don't know why. I called her everything under the sun, she cried even harder and I started to calm down. She said that she didn't exactly know who the father was but it was between me and two other guys. I loved Amber. I hugged April for half an hour and just listened to her cry into my chest. Her baby was mine. I knew in my heart.
I don't even know what I wrote but it ended up being three and a half pages. I left it on my desk and got a rope from my camping gear. I made the rope into a noose and found myself in the precarious predicament I'm in now.
I loved Amber and didn't want to hurt her.
April was pregnant with my child.
April's pregnancy would hurt Amber.
The fear of hurting Amber and the guilt of hurting her elevated inside me as I balanced on the chair. Those feelings went away as I kicked the chair out from under me. My first reflex was to reach for the chair with my feet but soon I just dangled as my face turned purple and my vision went spotty then got dark.
Amber cried for me for awhile but soon met another, got married and presently has three children, two girls and a boy. I had always wanted girls. April was beaten to death by one of the candidates for her baby's father. She was five months pregnant. My so-called suicide note was never read by either of the girls. It was given to Amber who left it in my coffin leading me to believe she knew about April and me all along.
