By Jacob Walsh
Young Jacob Christopher was at the ripe age of twenty three when his life changed in a way that no one could have predicted. This wasn’t a change that was caused by and effect of any sort – no. Jacob Christopher had been waiting to change for a very, very long time indeed. So it should be no surprise, mind you, that when he did change, he was quite happy. Or at least he seemed happy at the time. You see, young Jacob Christopher wasn’t a very expressive person – and this caused a deep disconnect between him and everyone who surrounded him, regardless of acquaintance. Even still, he was revered as a gentleman who treated everyone he spoke to with the utmost kindness and respect.
We find Jacob standing on the edge of a cliff looking out towards a sunrise. He is holding his hands up in front of him as if he was typing on a keyboard. He was visualizing his suicide note – if he was to ever commit suicide – and it began and ended with ‘Young Jacob Christopher was at the ripe age of twenty three when his life changed in a way that no one could have predicted.’ He waved his hand through the now hovering paragraph, and the paragraph slowly dripped letters into the wind until it had all disappeared. Young Jacob Christopher was not going to commit suicide today. Jacob knew this based on the sunrise – which was quite marvelous. The sun had just risen – blasting a myriad of colors over the distant frozen mountains. As Jacob watched the brilliance of the sky he was engulfed by the magnificence of the surrounding clouds. He sat there with his mouth askew and just watched. And as he marveled and philosophized he reached into his backpack and pulled out a large plastic bag that was filled half full with small round pills. He proceeds to take four of these pills out and swallowed them without second thought.
And there young Jacob Christopher stood. He knew that in thirty minutes he wouldn’t be the same person that he was now. Knowing this Jacob Christopher decided to reflect on the individual that manifested itself in his flesh – the same being that was self-aware. He would refer to himself in the third person – all of course to evaluate as a neutral and un-biased observer. He drew a significant breath and with the exhale, dreamed up the evaluation and test of his soul.
“But do I even believe in a soul?”
Jacob Christopher paused at the arrival of this question, but after a short moment of deep though, continued observing. He was in a dark wooded room. Complete with an endless height with a ceiling that wasn’t to be seen. Covering each wall hung dark red velvet tapestry that covered two perpendicular walls in contrast to Jacob Christopher. This room appeared to be a makeshift courthouse, if anything familiar at all. The tables were made of a slick shadowed wood that reflected the integrity of the room. And it was cold, unbearably cold. Jacob Christopher was observing the room, but could see his breath and feel like cold bite at him as if he had a physical presence in the room. He paused, floating aimlessly above the room, and created a being to represent him for the trial. This being wasn't alive, rather, Jacob created a male mannequin complete with liberty spikes, and conservative clothing. The mannequin – though not an organic object – had what appeared to be cracked skin on its surface. Its eyes glowed multiple colors that continued to fade in and out of each other. Its hands lay before it as if it were preaching to the judges. Jacob smiled at his creation.
“And now the trial shall begin” he said.
A loud CRACK! Thundered across the chamber, echoing without deteriorating. It ended abruptly as one of the judges stood to speak. The judge opened his mouth, and though sound did boom from within him, his lips did not move:
“MDMA (3,4 methylenedioxymethamphetamine)* is a synthetic, psychoactive drug that is chemically similar to the stimulant methamphetamine and the hallucinogen mescaline. It produces an energizing effect as well as feelings of euphoria, emotional warmth, and distortions in time perception and tactile experiences.”
Another loud CRACK! Echoed throughout the chamber. Jacob Christopher, now incredibly bored with the trial, pulled out his iPod. As a shallow thump began to grow, the trial continued.
“Do you know who we are? Do you know why you are even here? These questions torment me, Jacob, because you do not know the answer to them. What also torments me is your naive representation of us, the judges, who you so generously created. No one but yourself can truly judge your character, Jacob. Consider us, then, as your most trusted ally! Consider us, then, your ego.”
Jacob, watching silently as his ego that was manifested as a British judge ruled over mannequin, laughed. Jacob Christopher loved this idea of self-judgment. He was aware of what was right and what was wrong in this life and his only crime was being unhappy.
The mannequin stared blankly into space.
“Good.” The judge said, sitting back down. “Let us, then, proceed to the real trial. We have become aware of your drug habits, Jacob, we have become aware of your self-destructive behavior. And we want you to know that those two 'sinister' traits are not the reason for this collaboration. We are all here for the doubt that you carry about your happiness.”
Jacob Christopher, now ignoring the judges, cranked the music on his iPod to blasting. The quite beating of bass now hammered throughout his consciousness. The music engulfed him.
“Jacob, you called this trial because you are here to KILL yourself, listen to yourse-”
He didn't care about this silly trial anymore. All he wanted to experience was the noise. The judge’s last comment was shrugged off without second though.
UNSSS UNSSS UNSSS UNSSS UNSSS UNSSS UNSSS UNSSS UNSSS UNSSS UNSSS
Jacob Christopher laid there on that cliff for hours listening to his music. He had packed large quantities of snack foods and water to hold him over. Once he realized he was hungry, he also realized that he was coming down from the high he was on. This was unacceptable. Once he finished a PBJ and drenched himself in water (He knew that the effects of E are dehydration), he reached into his backpack again and pulled out another tablet of E with the addition of LSD. He proceeded to take both.
Jacob Christopher became a vegetable. His eyes were fixated on the horizon. As the colors of the darkening sky began to vibrate, he remembered his childhood, more-so, he remembered his parents. His childhood was filled with the love given to him by his foster parents. And, although he had never truly known his real mother and father, he wouldn't trade the adults who raised him for anyone else. He remembered his home in the middle of a suburban neighborhood in Philadelphia. The grass was green there. The air was refreshing.
As he walked through his old hallways, to his dismay, the walls began to melt. He heard a powerful hissing noise as everything he once adored turned into liquid. Suddenly, he was back on the cliff's edge. He stared, once again, into the horizon.
“I could build a swing set here”, he said.
And he did. Jacob turned to the ground left of him and imagined a tree sprouting violently from the ground, twisting as it grew taller and taller. He caught onto a branch and was carried upward. A rope emerged from the bark and slid down, forming with a plank near the bottom – creating a swing. Jacob climbed to the seat, and began to sway back and forth above a horrifying height. Jacob didn't notice the height, though, for he was in a trance – fixed upon the pulsating sky. He noticed that it had become dark. He turned to see where he had sat before, and once he did the imagined swing set vanished, leaving Jacob to smack his head on the rough rocks next to where he had been sitting the entire time. He lost consciousness.
When he awoke, his entire body ached. His body ached from the wound, and from the fallout from the drugs that he had taken. He turned over to vomit.
Spitting, Jacob pushed himself off of the ground. What time was it? He thought to himself. He turned towards the horizon. He gasped. Before him was the most beautiful sunrise he had ever seen. Sun rays were shooting across meadows he hadn't noticed before, the sky was awash with a myriad of colors, and all the pain he had felt evaporated.
“This... this is it” Jacob said.
Smiling, he walked off of the cliff.
With his last breath, he gazed into the sun rising to a new day – without him.
Young Jacob Christopher was at the ripe age of twenty three when his life changed in a way that no one could have predicted. This wasn’t a change that was caused by and effect of any sort – no. Jacob Christopher had been waiting to change for a very, very long time indeed. So it should be no surprise, mind you, that when he did change, he was quite happy.
Happiness, he found, wasn't in the amount of money you had in your bank, it wasn't in those you loved or who loved you, it wasn't in how popular you were. Happiness, Jacob found, was being content with who you are regardless of how others perceive you. Because no one can truly judge your character but yourself.
