Sensory Overload (494 words)

Tears streamed down his face as he took in the beauty of what lay before him The sky was awash with shades of pinks, purples and reds. The trees are shedding littering the streets with piles of crisp leaves in hundreds of shades of brown. The way the morning sun was hitting the high-rises made the windows twinkle like a thousand newborn stars.

Knowing if this is the last thing he ever saw he could die a happy man, he closed the curtains, slumped down onto the sofa, picked the knife up off the coffee table, rubbed his thumb across the blade to check the sharpness.

He tried to override the natural urge to blink as the blade came ever closer to him, he pressed the tip lightly against the base of his eye socket, paused for a second or two debating as he always did if this really was the right thing to do?

Decision made he plunged it in and levered the first eyeball out.

He would have screamed but he lost his tongue long ago.

After he told her how much he loved her, words felt vulgar and useless, he started speaking less and less but it didn't do the trick, people still demanded he spoke to them. So one night in an act of pure love and desperation he took the scissors to himself.

Looking at the dead fish of flesh he felt instantly better, she freaked out, she didn't understand.
No matter how much he wrote down on the notepad.
His hearing went next, after he was released from the hospital, the unit, after he convinced them he was better. He went back to the flat, all traces of her removed. He fell back into the music.
His first true love.
One night he was lay in the dark when a song he had heard a thousand times before came on, an old blues number, a desperate declaration of undying love.

The beauty struck him harder than ever, he listened to it back to back for hours, days on end.
Eventually he knew what he had to do, he gave himself one last play, a selfish indulgence, went into the kitchen, took out a meat skewer and plunged himself into a silent world.

Again for a  while everything was better in his world, but then colours started getting brighter. Little things like children playing in the street, a dog chasing its tail, a helium balloon dancing in the wind, they were getting to him, he was struggling to cope with all the beauty that surrounded him constantly.

And then that sunrise this morning, it's all too much.

He had no idea how long he had lay there, he didn't even know they were coming. The first he was aware was the agonising, infuriatingly, tender touch of the paramedic.
It felt like his soul was on fire

That’s when he knew death was the only option left for him.

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