Suicide

Chapter 3

He entered the cafeteria looking at the ground. He hardly ever went in here, not after the last time when the others laughed at him and ruined his toy, but today, he was keeping a promise. He had promised to eat breakfast so here he was. His name was William Arturo but no one ever used that name. It was too formal. They called him Wil except for one person who called him Billy. He liked that name best. Probably because he liked the person who called him that. The people at work also called him by what the world knew him as. Suicide. They called him other things too. Names that were mean because Suicide cried sometimes and Suicide was a target and why not make things worse for him? 

He had tried to look nice today because he hoped to see the one who called him Billy. He usually dressed in all black and today was no exception as he wore his favorite hoodie. The one with the cartoon pandas on the back. He looked to be about 16 but he didn't know. Hardly anyone knew their actual age. All anyone knew was that everyone was older, much older, than they looked. Suicide was a small boy. Skinny and short. He was only 5'1”. He had large brown eyes that he kept ringed with black eyeliner and that his medium length black hair constantly fell in. He liked it that way. He knew it was a stupid thought but he liked to imagine that his hair was a curtain that he could hide behind so that no one could see him. He was pale. He was a contradiction in terms. A corpse. He looked like a corpse. Everyone told him so. They made fun of him and teased him about being an escapee from one of the mortal cemeteries but he knew that he wasn't. Today, with his panda hoodie, he wore a black t-shirt with the words, “I'm Not Here” written on it in deep red, tight black jeans, and a pair of high top, black canvas shoes. He had a rubber bracelet on his left wrist, a skull ring on his right ring finger, a small chain necklace with a guitar pick on it, and a pair of black fingerless gloves that showcased his black fingernails. He had a small silver hoop in his nose and 2 in his bottom lip, one on each side. Sometimes he wore a hat. Today, he did not. He clutched his teddy bear to him and, still looking at the ground, walked further into the cafeteria. He stood in line waiting and let a smile play at the corners of his mouth. He would be a little happy.  A little was okay. He was daydreaming when he heard someone call to him. 

“Ex... excuse me?” he asked. 

“I said what will it be? What do you want for breakfast?” repeated Daria. That was not her real name nor was it the name that the world knew her as. He guessed that it was a combination of both.  All he knew was that she was working off some kind of punishment at the cafeteria and that everyone said she was a pain in the a*s.  He didn't know why. 

“Um... whatever you have is fine.” he said. 

“We have eggs, bacon, hash browns, coffee, muffins, doughnuts, tea, toast, crumpets, English muffins, orange juice...” she said through a mouthful of gum. 

“Oh. I like orange juice.  Can I have some of that and, um... eggs and toast?” 

“Yeah.  Here,” she said, tossing a plate and a cup at him. 

“Thanks,” he said, gratefully taking his food. He was grateful for everything he got because he hardly ever got anything at all. He paid for it and stood looking around the room. Here was the tough part. Finding a place to sit. This was always the part he dreaded. No one ever wanted to sit next to him so he had to find a vacant table but there were hardly ever any vacant tables so he often had to share one but when he shared one, they made fun of him. Sometimes they hit him. Sometimes they threw things at him. Sometimes they stole from him. They liked to try to make him cry. He tried not to. He looked around quickly, hoping no one would notice him, and found a small table to the side with only one chair. He walked over to it and sat down, putting his teddy bear beside his tray. He loved this one. It was his favorite. It was deep red with black eyes and so, he named it Malice. Malice was a gift. His first ever gift. He smiled slightly, picked up his fork, and began to eat. The cafeteria was noisy. He tried to eat fast so he could leave before anyone bad came. He wasn't fast enough. 

“Hey, guys! Look who decided to pay us a visit” said Fever to his friends, Common and Hernia. “It's whiny little Suicide!  Are you getting brave, little Suicide?  Coming back to the cafeteria?” 

“No. I just... I just want to eat,” he said. 

“You didn't learn yet? Toys aren't allowed in here, little baby,” he teased, grabbing Malice by the arm while his friends laughed. He took the bear, walked to the other side of the table, and looked down at his target. 

“P-please! Give him back! He's special!” cried Suicide. A crowd had started to form. All watching, some laughing, no one helping. 

“Aww. He's special is he?” 

“Yes! Please!” 

“Okay then. You can have him back,” said Fever. 

“R-really?” asked Suicide. 

“Yep!” 

Suicide reached out both hands to grab his greatest material treasure. He almost had him too but Fever was too fast. He pulled him away again. 

“No, no, no. Nothing in life is free,” said Fever, holding Malice high above his head. “Come get him back... if you can.” 

His toy was high. Too high for Suicide to hope to reach. This happened to his last teddy bear too and then, Fever had ripped her apart. Malice was too special. He didn't want anything bad to happen to Malice. He stood there, staring at Fever and weighing his options. He didn't know what to do so he resorted to begging. “Please,” he said, “Please, don't do this! Why do you do this to me? I'm not mean to you. I'm not mean to anybody! Why is everyone so mean to me? Why? I don't... I don't understand! Why don't I have any friends? Why do you all hate me? What did I ever do to you?  What did I ever do to any of you?  What's wrong with me?” Tears threatened and he thought that maybe, if he cried, they would give him back. He would do whatever it took. He stood looking at the ground, ashamed to be him.  Ashamed to be Suicide. 

Fever laughed and waved the bear around. “You must not like your toys very much if you keep bringing them here for me to play with.” 

Suicide gasped. “No!” he yelled, making a leap for his bear. He missed, as he knew he would, and landed on his hands and knees on the ground. The hood to his jacket fell over his head and his hair hung limp in his face. He was scared. “Please, no,” he whispered as his hot tears hit the cold tiles of the cafeteria floor.  He heard Fever, Common, and Hernia laughing then he heard an awed hush come over the room and the voice of the one person he wanted to hear most. 

“I think that will be quite enough,” said Cancer as he plucked the bear easily from Fever's hands. “Is this what the lesser employees do for fun?” he asked, staring down at the three bullies. They stared back at him in silence. “Well? I posed a question to you three! Has the cat got your tongues? Answer me! I am not a man to be toyed with on the best of days and today is not the best of days! You will answer me!” 

“We were only joking around,” said Fever quietly. 

“You were only joking around? Aren't you the same group of useless children that destroyed his last bear?” 

“We're not kids and we're not useless. He's the one walking around with toys!” said Fever, getting braver. 

“Perhaps you are right. Perhaps you are not children but if you insist on acting like them, you will be treated as such. The three of you will go see the Keeper of Order. As for useless, well, look at you. Fever, your claim to fame is making mortals feel slightly ill and regulating them if you are lucky and the mortal is weak already. Common, you give humans runny noses and Hernia, all you do is make it a bit uncomfortable for them to ride their bicycles. No. You are not useless. You are all mere nuisances at best and I am ashamed to have you in my department. Now, go. When the Keeper asks you what your crime was, you may tell him that you were showing disrespect to your superiors.” 

“Who? Who's my superior?” asked Fever, fuming. 

“Well, 99% of our workforce are your superiors but the one to whom I was referring this time is Suicide,” Cancer replied. 

“He will never be my superior!” yelled Fever. Everyone was staring. No one had ever raised their voice to Cancer before. 

“Face it. He already is,” he said, smiling smugly with Malice tucked under one arm and his hands in his pockets. “Just look at him!” Cancer looked down at Suicide, who was still on the ground, and Suicide looked back up at him with his big brown eyes full of gratitude. “His name says it all, does it not?” he asked before turning once again to Fever. “Suicide is a valued member of our society and a tremendous asset to Oblivion Corp. You three are here only until Time decides he is sick of your quirks or until the mortals eradicate you. It costs more to keep you than you are worth. You will leave Suicide alone from this point on and you will grow up if you wish to keep your jobs. Perhaps the Keeper can help you with your maturity level. Now, go. Get out of my sight,” he said. He watched them leave then, turning to the audience that had gathered, yelled, “Show's over! Don't you people have work to do? Get to it!” The crowd quickly dispersed and he focused his attention on Suicide. He knelt down in front of him, smiled, and handed him Malice. “Here you are.” 

“Thank you so much!” he said, hugging his bear tightly to him and smiling broadly.  A smile was so rare from him. Cancer watched this for a moment then stood up. 

“Are you okay?” he asked as he extended a hand to him. 

“Uh-huh,” Suicide nodded, taking his hand and standing. 

“Okay. Go sit back down and finish eating. I will be right there.” 

Suicide returned to his seat and began playing with his eggs. He watched as Cancer cut everyone in line, grabbed a large coffee and a muffin, took a chair from a neighboring table, and sat down across from him. They stared at each other briefly before Suicide said, “I'm sorry, Cancer.”

“For what?” he asked, while eating a piece of blueberry muffin. 

“You shouldn't have to... I should be braver and try to do things myself. I'm sorry.” 

“You have done nothing wrong, Suicide. You are just the way you are supposed to be. Besides, everyone needs a little help sometimes.” 

“You don't.” 

“Actually, you are wrong. I do need help. I need your help. Well, yours and others but you first.” He popped the last bit of his muffin in his mouth and scratched his head. 

“Mine?” asked Suicide, astonished. 

“Yes. It would seem that you have been chosen to be part of a special team that I am to lead. You were asked for by name,” he smiled, holding up the green folder.  He saw no need to tell him that Time had added him as a security measure to ensure Cancer's full cooperation. 

“Wow! Me? Okay!  Are you sure it said my name? You know how to spell it, right?  S-U-I-C-I-D-E?” 

“Yes. I know how to spell it,” Cancer laughed. The sound of his laughter made people look. Most of them had never heard it before. 

“Well, okay. Who asked for me?” 

“Time.” 

“Time asked for me?” he repeated, shocked.

“Yes. He must see something special in you,” he said, rubbing his temples and swallowing a couple of pain relievers. He hated these headaches. He lit a cigarette and stretched. 

“I bet he knows how hard I've been trying not to let people see me cry,” said Suicide proudly. 

“Perhaps so,” said Cancer. He sat staring at him and felt himself losing his cold demeanor. His headache seemed to be going away too. 

“What will we be doing?” 

Cancer took a long drink of coffee and a drag off his cigarette then said, “I will tell everyone at the same time. It will be faster that way. Right now, we have more team members to recruit.” 

“Okay but I still don't understand why anyone would want me especially.” 

Cancer smiled, leaned across the table to him and said, “I want you, do I not? Now, come on. Let's be off.” 

Suicide bit the corner of his lip, clutched Malice tightly, and, smiling shyly, followed his boyfriend out of the cafeteria.