I Can Fix This
Marcus has always been able to fix the things in his life. It’s been a point of pride for him, but when the pressures become too much and he takes his own life, this isn’t something he can fix this time.
Marcus looked down at the body below him. It was odd to himself like this. The gun he used had jumped out of his hand and fallen to the ground where blood dripped next to it. The desk he was slumped over was slowly staining red, the paperwork he had brought home was getting more ruined by the second, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
I can fix this.
It’s what he always said. It’s what he lived by.
When he was ten and the neighbor’s cat had escaped. It wasn’t his fault, but it felt like it was. If he had been more vigilant or more careful, he would have noticed the cat running out the door. He spent all day looking for her. Calling her name, shaking a bag of treats, following the neighborhood strays. When he brought her back, covered in scratches and exhausted, the neighbor grinned so beautifully he knew he would have done it a hundred times over just for that. All it took was a little determination and he could fix anything.
I can fix this.
When he was twenty and stuck on the side of the road. His tired was blown and while he did have a spare and a kit, he’d never had to change one before. An hour spent on YouTube and several walks down the road’s shoulder to clear his head, Marcus had the spare on. He smiled, frustration and anger melting into relief and pride.
I can fix this.
When he was twenty-seven and his girlfriend wanted to break up with him. He wanted to sit down and figure out what he did wrong, how he could make it better, and what needed to change. She stared at him, taking in his notebook and highlighters, before scoffing. “This is what’s wrong,” she said. “All you want to do it fix things without understanding how it because a problem in the first place. Figure out how to act like a person and then maybe we can talk.”
Marcus wasn’t able to fix that one and even now he wasn’t sure where he went wrong. He was there emotionally and physically. He took her on dates, made sure to remember her friends and family, even knew her coworkers as well. He knew her so well, but it wasn’t enough.
He looked up from his body, the front door of the apartment slamming shut. “I’m home!” Charlie’s voice echoed in the empty apartment. A thud let him know she’d dropped her bag by the door and would likely be taking her shoes off. “Today was a total shitshow.”
As her voice got closer, Marcus suddenly worried about how he was going to fix this. This wasn’t something he wanted Charlie to see. He had meant to wait until after she was home and go on a walk to clear his head. A walk always fixed his heavy thoughts, but suddenly the gun was in his hand, and he was pulling the trigger. Before Charlie got back, he couldn’t bring himself to be upset by it. His life was something he never figured out how to fix, and he was glad he wouldn’t need to worry about it anymore.
“Clara decided today would be the day to spend forty goddamn minutes talking about how important communication was in the workplace as if she wasn’t the absolute worst at—”
The door swung open, Charlie’s mild annoyance transforming as she took in the scene. Like watching a horror movie, he was powerless to stop her mouth from parting and letting out a scream that would break his heart if he still had one. She fell to the ground, kicking her legs to get as far away from his body as would allow.
Her breathing was all he heard. Heavy pants as she tried to catch her breath. Then, slowly, she crawled into the light of his bedroom. Her eyes looked around as if trying to take in everything else. As if looking at what was fine would make him fine. She took in the bed, his dresser, his posters. She even studied the blood on the floor before slowly letting her eyes follow the trail up.
His legs were spread on either side of his desk chair, one arm hanging at his side while the other laid next to his head. The wall next to his desk was splattered with blood and grey matter, ruining the height markers. His niece insisted he check whenever she would come to visit. She had reached five feet the last time she spent the night.
Panic started to build. Cherry was supposed to come over tomorrow. He’d promised his brother he would keep her over the weekend so they could have a relaxing anniversary. He was supposed to marathon movies with Cherry until she was too tired to keep her head up. She would say she wasn’t tired and he would pretend to believe her, carrying her to his room not even ten minutes later as she started to snore.
Charlie stood on shaky legs. She looked around again, this time her brow was knit, mouth a hard frown. She took a deep breath. “Don’t worry Marcus.” She pulled out her phone and started dialing. “I can fix this.”