11-26-2020, 11:17 PM
The shiny new cab pulled into the parking area. It was near empty. Pretty uncommon for
a Saturday. But it was early December and the nip in the air proved to be a little much
for most. The passenger reached over the backseat to pay his fare before climbing out.
"Wait for your change pal!" the driver replied.
"Nah, keep it..."
"But this is a hundred!"
"Merry Christmas..."
"Thanks buddy! Same ta you!"
He closed the door and found the trailhead. That chill in the air was his favorite part of the fall/winter
season. Always the outdoorsy type, this park was a place he'd spent most of his free time going back
several years. The memories were sweet, comforting. They were all he had left. Nine months prior
his family was struck by the cruelest of tragedies. His seven year old son was killed by a drunk driver while
riding his bike just blocks away from home. It ruined him. And his wife. He was their only child.
Three months later, divorce came calling. He couldn't see it being anything but his wife's way of punishing
him for their son's death. Even if it wasn't, he'd never be able to feel it differently. Such cutting, harsh words
were exchanged between them. Lots of hurt, angry nights on the couch. Several more at the Motel 6.
The unraveling spun out into all facets of his life. A daily fifth of whiskey couldn't calm those demons.
He was tormented in his every waking thought. But no matter how much he drank, how much he hated
himself, nothing would ever bring his kid back. And that was his life going forward. Loss. Emptiness.
The trail broke into several offshoots that would lead deeper into the wooded area situated behind. It was
a sprawling mess of trees, thickets and high grass. Beautiful and very accommodating if solitude was your
goal. And it was for Devon Amberly. Because he wasn't there to take in the natural grandeur.
He was there to end his life.
Further and further he walked, climbing through brush and low-hanging branches. The inner beatdown
becoming more violent the longer he marched. Not even the most adventurous dog-walkers ever came
back this far. He didn't want to be the damper on some poor unsuspecting person's days. So time didn't
matter, distance was the issue at hand. He came to a small clearing. There was something on the ground
up ahead. He clung to the hope of being wrong about what it was.
He approached cautiously until he was close enough to know for sure. Then, he ran to them. It was a young
girl. Couldn't be more than twenty-three. Short black hair, pale skin, sea-green sweater and enough blood
to make a horror movie. Her sleeves were pulled high, both forearms slashed deeply. Someone had beaten
him to the punch.
"Oh no-no-no-no-no, God please, no!" he cried. This wasn't something he planned on finding. Now or ever.
"Hey! Wake up! Come on! Please!!" he begged, gently slapping the girl's face in hopes of rousing her.
He was breathless. Tears falling. He was already wrecked inside. This was the soul-crushing cherry on top.
"Please! Come on! Open your eyes!!"
Nothing. She was gone. Still warm and limber. Must've been just moments before he came along. Why?
What could've pushed this beautiful young lady to such extremes? She was neat and clean. The sweet smell
of body spray most girls her age use cast a pleasant dome of innocence around her. His stomach knotted
as be bent over to hug this poor soul as she no doubt made her journey to the next life.
For whatever reasons, this was meant to be. And Devon didn't get around to pulling his own plug that day.
Sometimes, Fate speaks loudest to deaf ears.
a Saturday. But it was early December and the nip in the air proved to be a little much
for most. The passenger reached over the backseat to pay his fare before climbing out.
"Wait for your change pal!" the driver replied.
"Nah, keep it..."
"But this is a hundred!"
"Merry Christmas..."
"Thanks buddy! Same ta you!"
He closed the door and found the trailhead. That chill in the air was his favorite part of the fall/winter
season. Always the outdoorsy type, this park was a place he'd spent most of his free time going back
several years. The memories were sweet, comforting. They were all he had left. Nine months prior
his family was struck by the cruelest of tragedies. His seven year old son was killed by a drunk driver while
riding his bike just blocks away from home. It ruined him. And his wife. He was their only child.
Three months later, divorce came calling. He couldn't see it being anything but his wife's way of punishing
him for their son's death. Even if it wasn't, he'd never be able to feel it differently. Such cutting, harsh words
were exchanged between them. Lots of hurt, angry nights on the couch. Several more at the Motel 6.
The unraveling spun out into all facets of his life. A daily fifth of whiskey couldn't calm those demons.
He was tormented in his every waking thought. But no matter how much he drank, how much he hated
himself, nothing would ever bring his kid back. And that was his life going forward. Loss. Emptiness.
The trail broke into several offshoots that would lead deeper into the wooded area situated behind. It was
a sprawling mess of trees, thickets and high grass. Beautiful and very accommodating if solitude was your
goal. And it was for Devon Amberly. Because he wasn't there to take in the natural grandeur.
He was there to end his life.
Further and further he walked, climbing through brush and low-hanging branches. The inner beatdown
becoming more violent the longer he marched. Not even the most adventurous dog-walkers ever came
back this far. He didn't want to be the damper on some poor unsuspecting person's days. So time didn't
matter, distance was the issue at hand. He came to a small clearing. There was something on the ground
up ahead. He clung to the hope of being wrong about what it was.
He approached cautiously until he was close enough to know for sure. Then, he ran to them. It was a young
girl. Couldn't be more than twenty-three. Short black hair, pale skin, sea-green sweater and enough blood
to make a horror movie. Her sleeves were pulled high, both forearms slashed deeply. Someone had beaten
him to the punch.
"Oh no-no-no-no-no, God please, no!" he cried. This wasn't something he planned on finding. Now or ever.
"Hey! Wake up! Come on! Please!!" he begged, gently slapping the girl's face in hopes of rousing her.
He was breathless. Tears falling. He was already wrecked inside. This was the soul-crushing cherry on top.
"Please! Come on! Open your eyes!!"
Nothing. She was gone. Still warm and limber. Must've been just moments before he came along. Why?
What could've pushed this beautiful young lady to such extremes? She was neat and clean. The sweet smell
of body spray most girls her age use cast a pleasant dome of innocence around her. His stomach knotted
as be bent over to hug this poor soul as she no doubt made her journey to the next life.
For whatever reasons, this was meant to be. And Devon didn't get around to pulling his own plug that day.
Sometimes, Fate speaks loudest to deaf ears.
