Six Pounds of Guilt

Today was the day.

He’d finally made enough money to send his sister to her dream college, he had put it in a savings account, all the information was written on the note, and happily quit his job.

That place had been hell.

The work itself hadn’t been too hard, mind-numbing yeah, but not hard. What really made him miserable was the condescending, holier-than-thou mindsets everyone had seemed to share. He almost wished he was let in on the loop to be impossible to like, maybe then he wouldn’t have had to fight so hard to get up everyday.

All his strength went into opening his eyes in the morning. No matter how much he didn’t want to.

All his patience went into not quitting before he even stepped foot into the office building. He had a goal in mind after all.

All his determination went into working as hard as he could. Putting in hours of overtime. For her.

His sister. The only person he loves. The only person who loves him. he hopes

This is all for her to succeed. She’ll be fine without him, he knows she will. She’ll just need a little help. Which is why he’s busting his ass at a job he hates.

He unlocked his apartment and swiftly closed the door behind him. Just in time for a small white cat to stop right before it crashed into the door in an attempt to escape. The cat steadies herself, then rubs her entire body around his leg like she didn’t almost face plant into the door.

The second person he loves, animal more accurately, is a scrappy little cat, 6 pounds of stubbornness he didn’t notice followed him home one day until she latched onto his pant leg and didn’t let go. He ended up taking her to the vet to get all cleaned up and took her home. She’s been his only friend since he was a kid.

He knows it’s depressing, he tries not to think about it too hard. Except when he does

He crouches down to pet the cat, then walks to his room, it’s not a long trip, seeing as though he lives in a crappy 500-square-foot apartment, taking off his shoes, jacket, and tie on the way there.

His room was barren, with his bed and a dresser for decoration. It was useless to decorate it in his opinion. The room wasn’t meant to be used for long

He forgoes showering and just flops onto his bed, relaxing into his full-sized mattress, and ignoring the claws kneading his back, effectively shredding him.

He pulls out his phone, carful not to disturb his cat, and sends his sister a quick text.

‘Hey, when you get the chance can you start up my laptop? I left it in your room and It’s gonna be a while before I can check it again. The password is 7246632. Thanks.’

He doesn’t check for a reply.

He’s left a detailed letter on Word which should already be open—an apology for putting her through this, followed by a list of all the accounts and information she’ll need to access.

He puts his phone on the bed next to him and sighs, giving himself 20 minutes of having his eyes closed. Not sleeping, just laying there thinking. Then he gets up. He ushers his cat off him and walks over to his balcony, shutting the glass sliding door behind him before the cat can come with him. Resting his arms on the glass railing, he stares out at the horizon and takes a moment to appreciate the cool wind in his hair. It feels nice

Peaceful.

He takes a deep breath in, smiling softly, and swings a leg over the railing.

He steadies himself on the little piece on concrete left peaking out and lifts his other leg up and over the glass, gripping it to keep himself from falling. Just for a moment, he allows himself to relax, to let all the tension roll off his shoulders and just be.

He hasn’t felt himself in a long time. He just feels tired. The type of tired that doesn’t go away no matter how long you sleep. He doesn’t know when just living has become such a chore, but after all the failed meds and therapy sessions, he was ready to rid himself of this burden.

He hangs his head-

And closes his eyes.

He never would’ve expected to be this alone in such a populated city. He’s surrounded with people daily and yet, he’s never truly felt as though anyone was really there. His sister did the best she could, even so, he was too far gone. He made sure she would know this was in no way her fault and that it was always gonna end this way

The breeze gets a little stronger, as if gently nudging him forward. It doesn’t take much convincing.

His grip slowly gets weaker.

He’s leaning forward, letting the wind guide him to where he needs to go.

He’s done fighting. Done enduring the emptiness that resides deep in his soul.

Apathy latches onto his back, separating the world into two different groups: Him, and everyone else.

He’s barely holding on now. His fingers only just resting on the railing.

He lets gravity guide him.

.

A grating sound startles him out of his thoughts.

He rights himself, tightening his grip on the only thing keeping him up. Glancing behind him, he sees his cat dragging her claws down his sliding door. He cringes, not only at the sound it makes, but the visible marks she leaves. He sighs at her method of grabbing his attention but dutifully ignores her and focuses back on the task at hand. But alas, the scratching continues, leaving even more marks on his window—What could she possibly want?

He turns to her slowly, exasperation flickering in his eyes. He studies her for a bit, watching her pace in front of the door. He can’t quite hear her, but he can see her pawing at the glass and meowing irritably at him. Wanting. Waiting… It’s for what, that escapes him.

.

.

.

Hungry

“Shit, yeah it’s—”

He takes a quick glance at his watch—

6:30

Hungry

Yeah, she’s hungry.

“….” A quick glance down “Right- I should uhm”

He turns around, still gripping the bar, knuckles whitening. He lifts a leg over the railing and steps back onto his balcony. His cat, for such a small thing, glares holes into him. How dare he think to miss dinner?

Without a second thought he opens the glass sliding door and is greeted with the impatient meows of this little prima donna, rubbing against his leg as if trying to convince him to pretty please feed her already. He looks down at her and chuckles.

“Alright, alright. Yes, I’m sorry. How dare I?”

He walks over to the kitchen and opens the drawer he knew had the can opener in it. He then opens the cabinet that held all the cat food and got to work opening the wet food. Just as he was about to start, he paused.

He was almost gone. The only thing keeping him here was her.

She deserved a little bit better than regular wet food.

He goes to his fridge and pulls out some leftover salmon from a few days ago. He removes the top, then places the plastic container in the microwave to heat it a bit, placing a

suitable portion in her bowl, nothing crazy, while simultaneously pushing her away while she tries her absolute hardest to gorge herself, as if he regularly didn’t feed her. He took a fork and mashed up the fish into bite-sized pieces, skillfully shooing her away. He placed the meal on the floor, next to her water bowl that he’ll soon fill, and backed away.

Watching her eat, he feels as if he’s looking from outside his body—maybe from above, or below. He stares, vision blurring with the weight of what he was about to do.

Oh, God

She gets cranky when she doesn’t eat at 8:30 am and 6:30 pm on the dot. She would tear the place up if her meals were indefinitely postponed.

.

..

…

That would be inconvenient…

Yeah

.

No one would be there to feed her, and it would’ve been a while before anyone noticed he….

.

He wiped his eyes and let out a few shuddering breaths.

He couldn’t do that to her.

Yeah.

She needs him here

To feed her of course. Who else will?