A Short Story by Devin Marais – 17 years old
“I’ll die before 25,” Daniel laughed, “this party-filled purgatory is so rivetingly beautiful, why would I want to leave?” Daniel took a sip of his green absinthe and began to slur his words. “All life ends in an inevitable tragedy, death has become so inconsequential,” he sighed. “Nothing matters, except having control over whether I breathe or not.”
Daniel peered at himself in the mirror on his low-budget university desk. His eyebrows were low-hanging, creating the appearance of a constant furrow. The pores below his vacant eyes were enlarged, gasping for moisture. The bags under his eyes were a demonic black, filled with hints of a decaying discontent. His irises were surrounded with blood red vessels, reminiscent of his wrists.
He laid the mirror down and rolled up a R10 note. “Trivial comforts keep the voices at bay.” Daniel’s head was filled with a symphony of voices, all yelling self-degrading comments. The voices were louder than usual these days. He was in his fourth year, studying some mundane topic which meant for nothing but a piece of paper at the end.
Daniel laid back in his chair. The voices continued to shout, hence he tried to silence them again. Bile began to rise to his throat, and he began to choke. His overdose was met with a smile. His teeth shone bright as he drowned in his own vomit.
Adolescence is agony. Youth comes with a time of supposed orgasmic fruitfulness, however this is accompanied with the task of sticking it through. When discontent clouds the mind of a generation, casualties are sure to prevail. The youth are in an immortal, yet serene sorrow.