All living beings in hell

Chapter 37 - Putting the Shotgun in Your Mouth

The lotus lantern at the entrance was lit up, and the office welcomed No.20 No. [-] customer.

"Dong dong dong", like the sound of blunt metal objects hitting the door, the guest politely knocked on the door three times.

"Come in," I said.

The guest didn't answer, and the door creaked open.

The sound of the footsteps is like the spiked riding boots worn by western cowboys. Every step is accompanied by the suffix sound of friction between metal plates, which is a little heavy and a little slow.

"My lord." The deep male voice was mixed with the smell of old tobacco.

The guest flicked on a wide-brimmed cowboy hat, with a cigar dangling from his mouth, and a pair of bearded, melancholy eyes hidden under the brim of the hat.

"Can I borrow a fire?" The guest held a cigar and handed it to me.

"Sorry, no smoking here." I replied.

The guest put the cigar in the breast pocket of the cowhide vest with some disappointment.This cowhide vest was stained with engine oil, and the edges had been polished to a shiny finish.

"What should I call you?"

"York. Like New York but I'm nothing new."

I wrote "York" on the rice paper: "Okay, York, what is the reason you are looking for me today?"

York scratched his beard with his left hand, and sighed heavily: "Can you write a letter for me?"

"Why do you need to write a letter?"

"If you can't smoke, you can drink."

"Can't you tell without drinking?" I asked.

"Tobacco and alcohol, you have to give me something to start the conversation."

York rubbed his thick hands together, looking tense.His nails were also full of black dirt like motor oil.

"Okay." I turned around and took a pottery bowl, and poured cloud wine for him.

"Aren't you going to drink with me?"

"Not today."

York took a sip and coughed again and again: "This hellish wine is too strong. It would be great if there was bourbon from Kentucky."

"Only this kind of wine, there is no Costco in hell, it can't compare with the world, let's drink it together."

York looked at the remaining half bowl of cloud wine in the pottery bowl, hesitated for a moment, then raised his head and finished it.He coughed violently again, his cheeks were flushed, and he coughed up tears.It took about a full minute of coughing before it was considered to have subsided.

"Is that enough?" I asked.

"Enough...cough...that's enough," York took a deep breath, and stabilized his hyperactive trachea, "My lord...I just came to hell not long ago..."

"How did you come here? Where did you come from?"

York turned around and looked at Suicide Cliff not far from the window, facing me sideways.It was only then that I realized that there was an empty piece behind his head, as if the back half of the skull had disappeared with more than half of his brain.

York stared at the suicide cliff for a while, then turned around and looked down at the empty clay bowl: "If I knew that there is no bourbon in hell, I probably wouldn't put the shotgun in my mouth."

"Then why do you ask me to write a letter?"

"I left in such a hurry that I didn't even write a suicide note." York covered his face with his hands, "If there is still a chance, I want my brother to know, let my mother know... how much I love them... I really miss my brother and my mother. This decision is really stupid...so selfish."

"Why did you commit suicide in the first place?" I asked.

"I lost my job. It was two years ago, when the pandemic started...my brother lost his job, my mother lost her job. My ex-girlfriend is breaking up with me, we were already planning to get married...but she said, The new crown will change the whole world, and it will be different in the future. She doesn't want to spend the rest of her life in a family. She left one night and left a note saying that she went to Italy. She has always wanted to go to Italy... ..."

"and then?"

"Our family is going to be financially unsustainable soon. All I can do is eat cereal every day and then drink and smoke...a lot of booze...I don't want to wake up and I don't want to know what's going to happen next. Damn My life has changed because of the new crown. I should have been married, maybe with a dog, and my wife and I would be very happy together. But now... now I have nothing. I In hell, I'm in fucking hell, doing counseling with a clergyman from China, and it feels like fucking shit."

"Let me understand, so you shot yourself because you lost your job and broke up?"

"Many reasons... many reasons my lord...these are just the last straw."

"So what's the reason?"

York raised his hat brim, looked up at me, and smiled crookedly: "Please allow me to tell the truth, my lord, if all my psychiatrists were as patient as you, I would probably live longer. "

"Oh, thank you."

"You really can't smoke cigars?"

"No."

Yorke sighed, and put his leg on his knee: "I was ill when I was in college, Bipolar, that's what the doctor told me. I don't think I'm sick, but I can't control myself Emotions."

"If you can't control your emotions, what will happen?"

"It would be sad, sad, sad enough to vomit, and want to kill myself. I'd want to kill myself countless times. But sometimes I'd be hyper and feel like I can do anything! I can do anything! There's no middle ground, Writer, can you imagine? My whole life, without alcohol and drugs, I can only jump back and forth between extreme sadness and extreme excitement. Very tired, I am really tired."

York suddenly grinned: "Do you know what happened the day I committed suicide?"

"what happened?"

"I just had a big fight with my brother. He called me a hopeless loser. I pushed him. He fell to the ground and sprained his ankle. I yelled at him, I will never die in my life. Don't want to see you again! Then I'll go find my bourbon in the cupboard. Guess what?"

"The wine is gone," I said.

York smiled and continued: "Yes, the wine is gone. My whiskey is kept with my shotgun. You say, I have opened the door of the cabinet, so I have to take something."

"And then you shot yourself?"

"If there's one thing I've learned from my miserable life, it's that a sane person never pulls the trigger on himself."

"So what did you do?"

"I took my shotgun and drove five hours to a town [-] kilometers away and robbed a liquor store there. The owner...was an old black lady. I was scared, scared. Actually I don't want the money at the counter, I just want the liquor at the store, but I don't know why... I raised the gun at her, she raised her hands, staring at me... God, I still can't forget There's no fear in her eyes... there's nothing in her eyes."

York paused, his breath trembling, but he continued: "There is only contempt in her eyes, the kind of contempt that can completely trample your dignity under your feet, grind it, and grind it into powder. 'Don't look at me like that!' I yelled at her. But it didn't work, it didn't work, she wasn't afraid of me at all. I shot..."

"She's dead?"

"I... I don't know. I drove all the way, my mind went blank, I didn't know anything... When I calmed down, I didn't know where I was... Yes, I don't know I Where is it? It’s getting dark. There are large cornfields on the side of the road, and the air is still familiar with the smell of Louisiana... There are two bottles of wine I just snatched in the passenger car, and the two bottles add up to less than forty dollars Vodka was bought with the life of that old lady..."

"and then?"

"I was so sick, so sick, I just wanted to drink myself to death, until I died. I drank half a bottle of vodka, it was really bad, and my stomach was burning. I lay down in the back seat and saw that the shotgun was still on the co-pilot. I touched the gun and put it into my mouth. There seemed to be the sound of a police siren faintly in the distance... I shot. "

"You killed yourself, what happened after that?"

"When I opened my eyes again, I was falling. I still had the burning sensation of vodka in my stomach, coupled with the weightlessness, I threw up when I fell, and the vomit flew to myself again When I was still thinking about how to clean up the vomit, I fell on that cliff. Below the cliff is a red sea. I don’t know where I am, the person who fell with me said A language I don’t understand...some were laughing, some were crying, it was scary. Next to me was a devil with a bull’s head and a human body saying to me...welcome to hell.”

"Do you regret killing someone?"

"It wasn't her that I killed! Not that person! It was her eyes! My God, if I were put in the same situation [-] times, I would probably make the same decision. I can't stand those eyes! "

"So you don't regret it."

"I don't know if I don't regret it...I'm homesick and want to go back."

"Are you planning to go back to the world next?"

"I don't know. I heard other ghosts say that if I go back to the human world, I will start all over again. I won't remember my previous family. Then it doesn't make sense for me to go back."

"If you don't go back, you will continue to stay in hell."

"If I stay in hell, at least I can have memories with my brother, with my mother, with all of us, can't I?"

"Well, that's good," I put down the sapphire pen, "it's almost time today."

"But . . . you haven't written for me yet," said York.

"I didn't promise to write for you."

"Isn't the job of writing a pen just to transport words? The letter itself is to transport words, isn't it? This is your job." York's neck turned red when he got excited.

"First, not all texts need to be transported by me. Second, since it is my job, the content of the texts to be transported and recorded should also be decided by me. Third, the suicide note is what you should write yourself, and it is written during your lifetime. Letters to the living should be written. You have missed your time in life, and no one can do it for you."

"But...but..."

I got up and prepared to see off the guests: "It's almost time, please."

York stood up, a little disappointed: "I don't think I got anything."

"What you want is not with me."

"Where is that?"

"Turn around hell and see if you can find it," I replied.

York went to the door, closed the door without saying a word, and went out.

　The community next to the cafe where I worked yesterday was sealed off, and the whole city was not peaceful.I hope you all take good care of yourself and stay healthy during this special period.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)