For the first time in quite a while, I cried last night. I cried like a baby for about an hour or so. The reason? Well, I was walking through the corridor on the first floor listening to my iPod, when all of the sudden this horrible smell comes out of one of the doors. I see that it's open, so I decide to just go in and see what caused the stench like the nosy b*****d I am.
There was this old guy named Gerald who lived on the first corridor, who was either in his late eighties or early nineties. He was a grand master at chess before World War II and he was one of the best chess players in the world at that time. He was drafted into the war, and about a few months into his service his skull was pierced by a piece of shrapnel and he lost most of his thinking ability. Gradually, he taught himself how to read and play chess again, although now his chess playing skills were that of a beginner.
He was a very lonely man, having lived in that same apartment for sixty years. His wife had died in a car accident five years ago. After that, the only contact he had with the outside world was by sponsoring a Somalian child. Two years ago, the child was killed by a stray bullet in a local gang warfare, and he spiraled into a deep depression.
When I walked into that door, I saw that Gerald had hung himself from his ceiling fan.
There was a folded-up note on the stool he used to climb to the fan, and was written on the back of his grocery list. He said that he was "no longer what he used to be" and that "it was his time to come home". He drew a chess set at the bottom.
The thing is, I felt really bad for the guy after learning about him about four months before this happened. I played chess with him every Wednesday afternoon since December. Usually I let him win, but I think that he could've won without me letting him. The last time I played chess with him, five days before his suicide, I had beaten him for the first time (and only time). In the professional world of chess, honor is everything. To have been one of the world's best years ago but now being beaten by a sixteen-year-old country boy is extremely dishonorable, apparently. What I'm trying to say is, I'm worried he may have killed himself because of the dishonor resulting from that chess game, especially the fact that he drew a chess set at the bottom of the note.
After reading the note, I fainted, and when I came to a few minutes later, I got up off the floor, ran upstairs to my apartment, and called 911. I vomited while I was on the phone.
The ambulance took his body away, and I watched from my window. I started crying and pulling out my hair over the sheer guilt I felt. It was just so bad. I had killed somebody. If it weren't for me, he'd still be alive.
After making a big bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream, I sat down and signed on to MSN Messenger. I explained to Vinny (my bestest internet friend, OrangeWing here on Gaia) what happened, and he said it wasn't my fault. After the conversation, I went to bed at 9:00 PM and just started wailing. Autumn (my wife) tried to comfort me, but I couldn't even hear her over my own screams. I fell asleep about an hour after that.
I'm so scared and so worried. My hands are still shaking and I feel like killing myself.
Gold: 41706
There was this old guy named Gerald who lived on the first corridor, who was either in his late eighties or early nineties. He was a grand master at chess before World War II and he was one of the best chess players in the world at that time. He was drafted into the war, and about a few months into his service his skull was pierced by a piece of shrapnel and he lost most of his thinking ability. Gradually, he taught himself how to read and play chess again, although now his chess playing skills were that of a beginner.
He was a very lonely man, having lived in that same apartment for sixty years. His wife had died in a car accident five years ago. After that, the only contact he had with the outside world was by sponsoring a Somalian child. Two years ago, the child was killed by a stray bullet in a local gang warfare, and he spiraled into a deep depression.
When I walked into that door, I saw that Gerald had hung himself from his ceiling fan.
There was a folded-up note on the stool he used to climb to the fan, and was written on the back of his grocery list. He said that he was "no longer what he used to be" and that "it was his time to come home". He drew a chess set at the bottom.
The thing is, I felt really bad for the guy after learning about him about four months before this happened. I played chess with him every Wednesday afternoon since December. Usually I let him win, but I think that he could've won without me letting him. The last time I played chess with him, five days before his suicide, I had beaten him for the first time (and only time). In the professional world of chess, honor is everything. To have been one of the world's best years ago but now being beaten by a sixteen-year-old country boy is extremely dishonorable, apparently. What I'm trying to say is, I'm worried he may have killed himself because of the dishonor resulting from that chess game, especially the fact that he drew a chess set at the bottom of the note.
After reading the note, I fainted, and when I came to a few minutes later, I got up off the floor, ran upstairs to my apartment, and called 911. I vomited while I was on the phone.
The ambulance took his body away, and I watched from my window. I started crying and pulling out my hair over the sheer guilt I felt. It was just so bad. I had killed somebody. If it weren't for me, he'd still be alive.
After making a big bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream, I sat down and signed on to MSN Messenger. I explained to Vinny (my bestest internet friend, OrangeWing here on Gaia) what happened, and he said it wasn't my fault. After the conversation, I went to bed at 9:00 PM and just started wailing. Autumn (my wife) tried to comfort me, but I couldn't even hear her over my own screams. I fell asleep about an hour after that.
I'm so scared and so worried. My hands are still shaking and I feel like killing myself.
Gold: 41706
Community Member
dude i hate that little thing on the bottom that says your gold amount b/c when i read it after the story i laughed and now i feel like an a*****e b/c i laughed after that sad story