Anyone who has ever said depression is something you can just shake off has clearly never experienced it in full bloom. Depression is a subtle thing. It starts off as just a little sadness but slowly permeates your life. Think of it as having weight on your shoulders. Fifty pounds can start to feel like one hundred pounds, then one hundred pounds feels like two hundred pounds and so on. The heavier the weight, the harder it is to shake off. Without anyone to help ease that burden it can become full blown despair. Despair is the real bastard of our emotional wheelhouse. Despair is the complete absence of any hope, absence of anything positive, absence of any faith things will get better, ever. You see everything in shades of blackness, foods become bland, even favorite activities no longer hold any appeal. Many who are suffering through despair believe there is only one way out of that deep abyss. My mind tried to track in a different direction before landing resolutely in favor of self-annihilation.

I’m sitting on the beach with a Colt revolver in my lap preparing myself mentally for my last action. I’m not clear right now how I got it. I’ve never bought one. I don’t think I stole it, yet here I am. Earlier tonight, I was robbed of all my remaining possessions. Maybe that’s when I got it. It has one bullet and that’s all I need.

My mind devolves to the events which caused my drastic and destructive spiral downward. It started with a girl. Not just any girl but my high school sweetheart, Courtney. She was my second girlfriend and the first person I had sex with. Courtney was the beautiful prom queen who could lift my spirits in a way no one else could. She was my best friend and I assumed was my soul mate. Until one day I walked in on her with her arms around another guy. He was a massively muscular black man and when I interrupted, she got incredibly angry with me. I turned and left.

Chasing me down, she let me know in no uncertain terms he was rich, well hung, and a real man. She told me I had no future and she was ashamed, disgusted, and repulsed by the man I’ve become. I was completely average and there was nothing special about me. I heard rumors she was sleeping around while I was on deployment in the Navy but of course I didn’t believe them. During one of her heated moments she told me she slept with all my friends. She didn’t sleep with most of my friends, it was all of them. This was confirmed later when a few admitted she didn’t just sleep with them but sometimes took at least two on at a time.

My best friend at the time was prepared to go into detail of the many trysts when I simply punched him and walked out. He laughed mockingly at me through gushing blood as I slammed the door on the way out. I learned she developed a fixation sleeping with black guys. She didn’t restrict her activities to just them. She slept with anyone as it turns out, an equal opportunity slut. That big guy she was with looked familiar but damn, I just couldn’t place him. Eventually, I blocked him out of my memory.

She wasn’t content to humiliate me and leave. She spread the rumor where I worked that I repeatedly stole money. Which was a lie but the damage was done. I was fired and no one else would hire me. It pissed me off no one ever bothered to check if it was true. She was hot and knew how to play the victim.

I came back from work early only to find my apartment locked, my belongings in the hallway and an eviction notice on the door. Ever since I was on deployment, I let her handle paying the bills and she had full access to my account. She cleaned me out, wrecked my credit, left me without a place to sleep and little money in my pocket. Money which was later robbed along with my remaining possessions.

My family passed years ago and all this all turned into a complete shit storm in the space of a few days.

That isn’t true obviously.

In hindsight, the warning signs were there. She was emotionally distant and we had sex rarely. Even when I returned from deployment, she never seemed happy to see me return. She was quick to anger and vent her frustrations. I blinded myself to the truth because she was my first real love. The idea she would betray me so completely never crossed my mind.

I remember now how I got the revolver. I was at a stop sign when the door to my jeep was yanked open and I was struck several times with the butt of a gun. Before I realized what was happening, I was pulled out of my car and a gun pressed to my head. I managed to wrestle the weapon free but he escaped in my car. He was an average size white guy wearing a black mask, that’s all I know. He took off in the car which had the remainder of my belongings and left me only holding the revolver with one bullet in the chamber.

That catches you up with the events leading me up to my moments here at the beach. The part I can’t seem to wrap my mind around is how anyone can behave so callously toward someone who loves them and has been at their side most of their life. She was able to get her college degree while I was on deployment but when I got home and wanted to celebrate, she brushed me off. I didn’t think anything of it at the time.

I’m such an idiot.

An idiot in the thrall of despair. Thankfully, no one is around to hear what I’m going to do. I’m hoping the surf will wash away most of the mess. Just another life winked out in the big city of Los Angeles. As invisible as I feel, I suspect it could be days before I’m discovered. If ever. I have no family and now I have no friends. It’s appalling how my friends willingly screwed me over just to have sex with my girlfriend. I’m so chronically average no one will miss me anyway. Average height, average weight, average intelligence, average looks, average average average. Just one of those things Courtney was happy to remind me. She could easily do better. So, fuck it.

Pulling the Colt’s hammer back I hold the barrel against my temple. It’s still warm from the shots earlier. That’s when I heard the singing.

It was a single female voice singing words I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand the words but the tone was clear. The mysterious words conveyed deep melancholy. Her voice raised and lowered through scales I assume only a professionally trained singer could accomplish.

Lowering the revolver, I listened to the beautifully angelic voice. I didn’t know what could cause such pain in someone with such a voice. She carried my emotions with her as they traveled through sadness, depression, and melancholy.

Turning to find the source, I discovered a small woman was sitting nearby against a large rock dressed in long ankle length white sundress. I knew she wasn’t there earlier. Standing, I found myself walking to where she sat.

She had pale skin, dirty blonde hair and her hair was unruly and messy. A petite woman with the slight frame of a teenager but the weary look of an adult far beyond her years. If I were to guess she would be about my age at twenty-four. The most striking aspect of her were her eyes. They were large, brown and full of deeply held emotion.

If she was alarmed a mysterious man was standing above her with a weapon in his hand, she didn’t show it. Instead she continued her song. When it finally ended, she looked up at me and I was surprised to see she had tears in her eyes. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t want her to stop. She regarded me silently and I broke the ice by saying.

“I know how you feel.”

She still said nothing but she patted the sand next to her indicating I should sit. So, I did.

I didn’t interrupt. She sang song after sad song. The language she wasn’t anything I understood or recall ever hearing. I forgot about the Colt and we traveled together in despair. When the emotional burden began to really wear me down, she changed her song choice.

The next few songs started slow and somber but led into an upbeat ending. The next song she did the same. She was expertly pulling me from the edge of my abyss. Before I knew it, my hand was tapping along to the beat of her singing.

Finding a break in her song I turned to her. “You have a beautiful voice. That was amazing.”

She said nothing but smiled weakly before picking another song. Again, this one was upbeat and for the first time since this whole thing started, I found myself with the glimmer of a smile.

“Do you speak English?” I asked the mysterious woman. She still didn’t respond but I assumed she didn’t.

Not saying a word, she turned to look at me. She placed a hand on my chest then placed both hands together. She moved them away from each other as if to say “break.”

“Broken heart?” I figured out.

She nodded and I just sighed and looked down.

She placed a palm on my cheek and gave me a very pitying look. She finally stood and held out her hand to me indicating I should stand. When I did, she looped her arm inside mine and started walking me down the beach toward the boardwalk.

We walked up to a trash can and she stopped. Turning her large warm brown eyes to me she gave me a very intense pleading look. I thought about it. There was no way I was going to use the weapon now. Not in front of her at any rate. I rationalized, I can find another way to do it later.

I opened the .45 revolver and pulled out the single remaining bullet. I dropped the Colt into the trash can and pocketed the bullet.

When I did, her expression changed drastically.

It was a slow smile that spread into a massive toothy grin. A happy sob escaped her and for the first time and she did something no one else thought to do since this all started.

She hugged me and it felt really good.

I’m six feet and she was about five two. She felt small in my arms but she hugged me fiercely. Not for the first time I wondered who this mysterious woman is that’s so emotionally invested in me changing my mind? I’ve never met her. Why should she care?

When she finally pulled away, I tried to engage her in conversation again. I held my palm to my chest and said “Marcus”

If she understood she didn’t show it. Instead, she wrapped both arms though my left and leaned her head on my shoulder as we walked. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture. It was something “The Bitch” never did. I never thought of myself as a PDA kind of guy but it was nice. Coming from the right person, it was something I could easily get used to.

Something niggled in my head this wasn’t a romantic gesture on her part. She was leading me someplace.

After a long time walking back to the boardwalk in silence, we see some of the performers were still putting on acts. A man drawing caricatures, acrobatic displays, a magician and even a guy drumming on buckets. It occurred to me I was easily as poor, if not worse, than the people here. It was not lost on me if I needed to do anything similar I couldn’t. I had no practical skill to make a living.

I started to drift into a depressive reverie when I caught her looking up at me with concern on her face. I faked a smile for her and she led me to the drummer. Smiling at me, she started swinging her shoulders and hips in time with the drummers beat. She crooked her finger indicating I should join her.

“I can’t dance,” I admitted grudgingly. She rolled her eyes dramatically and grabbed both my hands. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do exactly but she was the one dancing as she held my hands. She used me to twirl and move in and out. The drummer nodded with a smile and changed his beat slightly to accommodate. Gracefully, she moved against me and away. Her white dress billowed around her and it inspired a few people to do the same. Several people were milling about and she let go suddenly to take the hand of a random black woman walking past. The woman laughed as the cute stranger spun her around. She started to dance a little with her when she caught sight of the drummer.

“Pete?” she exclaimed and the drumming suddenly stopped.

“Liz?”

The woman let out a happy squeal and ran toward the drummer who swept her up in a hug as if long lost friends were finally reunited. They started talking quickly and quietly to themselves forgetting where they were. People started to break up feeling uncomfortable watching the couple.

My new friend looked at them with a grin. When she caught me staring at her she pulled her messy hair in front of her face and looked embarrassed. I just smiled and shook my head. When she saw I wasn’t upset she just gave me an adorable lopsided grin.

We continued meandering around and came across a stall selling DVD’s. She was idly flipping through DVD’s and it seemed a little odd to me.

“I really wish you could tell me your name. I might need to make one up.”

Just then she pulled out a Disney DVD. It was The Little Mermaid. She pointed to the red headed cartoon on the cover and to herself.

“You’re a mermaid?” I joked.

She shook her head and pointed again. It took me a moment to remember the movie and the plot. The name occurred to me after a few moments.

“Ariel?” when she nodded her head emphatically. I continued. “If I kiss you will you get your voice back?”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. You sing in a language I don’t understand but clearly you understand me. Why won’t you say anything?”

Instead of responding she seemed to shrink in upon herself. I feel like I asked something I wasn’t supposed to. Clearly, it was an uncomfortable topic.

“I’m really sorry. I’ll let it go. I’m sure you have your reasons.” I soothed but she still looked down and away. I put my hands in my pockets feeling like a complete jackass. I was hoping I could do or say something to make her smile again. To my surprise I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. I was certain it wasn’t there before. I was thinking what I could do when my eyes landed on a woman holding a bouquet of roses selling them to the passersby.

I didn’t bargain or ask how much it was. I just gave her the twenty and refused the change. She gave me the long-stemmed rose and I returned to Ariel.

“Will you smile again please? I’m sorry, I won’t ask you to speak again.”

Ariel looked up slowly and when she saw the rose, she looked confused. She pointed to herself as if to ask, “For me?” I nodded and smiled.

Her visage transformed from one of sadness to joy and exhilaration. She took the rose and crushed into me with another hug. That’s when I felt warm. I wasn’t warm as in arousal. I felt warmth like I just stepped into a warm shower. It spread from the top of my head, down my spine and to the balls of my feet. She stepped away and stared at the rose given to her. Clearly, the gesture meant a lot. I was happy to see her smile return.

We started walking and again I felt as if she were leading me. We were in a less populated area of the board walk when she suddenly stopped and turned to me. Looking up at me with her large brown eyes they seemed to be trying to convey something I didn’t understand.

She repeated the gesture done earlier. Patting my chest and moving her hands apart as if to say “Broken heart” I nodded and painful memories returned momentarily forgotten by her presence.

She took my hand and repeated the gesture. She placed it on my chest then moved my hands apart. This time she closed them together with a clap in a reverse gesture ending with my hands on my chest. Her hands felt warm and she spoke to me for the first time in heavily accented English. Her speaking voice was weak and high pitched.

“NOT Broken” and a flood of emotions filled me and my head started to swim. She repeated “You are NOT Broken” and contradictory emotions filled me. Mostly denial. She stood up on her tip toes and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you for the rose, I love it very much.”

When I opened my eyes a moment later, she was gone. Confused by the sudden disappearance I spun around. What confused me even more is when someone crashed into me nearly knocking me over.

“Sorry!” It was a woman and she was in panic trying to rush past. I spun around catching the woman and I recognized her.

“Marcus? Is that you?” the woman said.

“Emily! Who are you running from?”

I see Emily’s familiar face. Emily was a friend of my ex for a while until she stopped coming around. She was an incredibly attractive Hispanic woman and nearly as tall as I am with a thick full mane of dark chestnut brown hair.

She wore tight jeans with a form fitted light grey blouse with a plunging neckline. This was the first time I ever really noticed her figure. When she came over to the apartment before she wore very baggy unflattering clothing. Seeing her dressed like this was drastically different. For starters, she was much more endowed than I realized. Her blouse accented her olive tone skin and a very generous amount of cleavage. She wore a long gold necklace with an infinity symbol hanging between her breasts. Her waist was narrow making her hips flare seductively from a pair of long legs that looked like they might belong on a gymnast or dancer. Her face was heart shaped and her mouth and lips were full.

The one thing about her that was decidedly unattractive was she was clearly crying. Her striking hazel colored eyes were marred by streaks of black makeup streaming down her cheeks. Her face was swollen on one side and I guessed she was punched recently.

“Emily! Get back here now!” a male voice boomed.

Turning, I see a younger man. He had blonde hair, blue eyes and was my height. His face was covered with acne blemishes and a thin build. He looked very irate.

I was examining Emily’s face when he shoved me from behind.

“Get out of here. This isn’t any of your business”

I turned my head to look at him. “Fuck off frat boy. She’s a friend of mine.”

He reached behind his back and pulled out a Glock 9mm. “I’m not asking.”

Emily screamed. “Tony no! Leave him alone!”

I sighed and shook my head. Glancing upward I raised my hands in supplication thinking “I had to wonder if the day could get any worse.”

Apparently, God said, “Hold my beer,” Because in my mind, God is a beer drinker.

Turning to face him directly, he held the weapon inches from my face.

“Go back to your game console frat boy before the real-world shoves that 9 mil up your ass.” I snarled at him.

“I’m not a frat boy asshole.” He said defensively

“Please tell me you’re a drop out because I have hours of verbal fucking beatdowns, you putrid bucket of fucking herpes. You’re an especially stupid kind of douche canoe because you can’t threaten me. I’d just prefer if you shot me and be done with it.”

Frat boy just sat there and stared at me. I’m not even sure if he understood what I said. Christ, he just stared at me wide eyed like a twelve-year-old boy who just discovered internet porn.

“You’re fucking crazy!” he obviously wasn’t prepared for someone to call his bluff.

“Yea? Even if you do shoot us both you will have done it in front of a camera. Right there is one at the corner of the building, you ignorant shit stain.”

Wouldn’t you know it? Frat boy actually looked over in panic. Damn, this was easy. I brought both my hands up, knocking the weapon offline and up, holding the slide I was able to lock his wrist and shoulder in under a second. Bending the weapon backward until he was forced to let go, I then stepped back with it in my hand. Frat boy was shocked that things could turn so quickly.

Ejecting the mag and the bullet in the chamber I tossed the pieces in different directions. Once his weapon was out of my hands, some of his confidence returned. He pulled his fist back to take a swing. It was easy to pivot out of the way. Moving to keep myself between him and Emily, he tried over and over to connect but I simply slipped to the side each time.

“Fuck bucket, you’re pretty damned slow.” I taunted.

“You’re going to defend this whore?” he was beyond irate.

That’s when I decided to stop playing. Just after one of his swings went past, I struck him in the sternum with the heel of my hand and followed up with a punch to his liver. If you’ve never had the displeasure of being hit this way, consider yourself lucky. It really sucks.

He dropped to his knees holding his chest and gasping for air. Moving behind him I shoved him down to the ground. Pulling his arms back I then knelt on his neck.

“You know this move frat boy? It’s all over the damned news. Want to guess what will happen in a few minutes?” He was already winded. I knew and was having a tough time breathing. I let up on the pressure and heard him suck in air.

“You want to beat on a friend of mine then come here and shove that in my face? If I let you up will we ever see you again?”

He began to utter an insult when I put pressure down on his neck again. I didn’t do it long, just to make a point and let up.

“No!” he said when he caught a breath.

“No what?” I asked

“No, you won’t see me again.”

I stood and let him stand up on his own. He held his neck and glared at me. I could tell an insult was on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t say anything. He looked down at the gun on the ground.

“Leave it and go.” I commanded.

Emily, who was mostly silent until now finally spoke up. “Wait! Give it to me first.”

He looked down at her hand and then to me. “I don’t have it. It never existed.”

“You liar!” she accused.

“It was never in the original footage. We never shot it to begin with.”

“You son of a bitch!” Emily lunged and pushed him hard in the chest. He lost his footing and fell backward but stood up quickly. “Get the fuck out of here.” She said, turning from him.

He turned and walked away without a word. Thank goodness.

Emily turned to me and gave me a fierce hug. “Thank you! It’s a good thing you were here. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“What was that all about?” I asked.

Emily opened her mouth to respond and then shut it. She looked down in obvious embarrassment. I held up my hands, palm out. “It’s ok, it’s none of my business. I’m sorry.” She glanced up at me sharply and back down. It was obvious she was torn.

She finally evaded it and instead asked, “Why are you here?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I’ve had an incredibly dreadful day and found myself here on the beach.” I intentionally left out the part of my near suicide and Ariel.

“How’s things with Courtney?” she asked, referring to my ex-girlfriend.

“We broke up.” I replied simply.

“Really?” Emily asked with a mixture of surprise and happiness.

“Turns out she was sleeping with all of my friends. I caught her throwing herself at some guy and when I objected, she unloaded by telling me everyone she’s been screwing behind my back. As it turns out, there were a lot.”

Emily looked at me with sympathy. “Oh Marcus, I’m so sorry.”

“Worse, is she called in to my work to get me fired. She made up a lie they believed her. Then she moved all her stuff out while I was away just before an eviction notice came due. She wasn’t content to cheat and leave. She wanted to make sure I was homeless, broke and without income too.” I sighed heavily. I caught myself looking at the discarded weapon on the ground.

“When was the last time you ate?”

I couldn’t remember specifically. “Yesterday I think.”

She held out her hand. “Come on, let’s get you some food.”

I’ve only had a few interactions with Emily and each time I remember having friendly conversation. It never went anywhere obviously but we got along well and I was a little disappointed when she stopped coming around. Since I was with Courtney at the time, I didn’t think it right to ask.

I knew Courtney was a jealous person. It seemed normal, that’s how most women were. You might ask why I stayed with her if she was like that. The short answer is, she was with me when my parents died just after high school. Even the worst relationships normally start off well. She was always demeaning but again, it just seemed normal. She seemed content to do her own thing most of the time so I got into the habit of working out. That understates what my workout schedule was like. It was twice a day, sometimes three. I played nearly any sport and when I wasn’t doing that, I was at the gym, outside running, swimming, biking or whatever. My workout obsession worsened when I joined the Navy and I ran across a few like-minded individuals.

My mind drifted back to Ariel and her sudden disappearance and wondered when or if I would see her again. I was still a little warm from the sensations earlier.

Turning to follow Emily, I remembered the weapon on the ground and deposited it in the nearest trash can. I figured I would need to file a police report anyway for my stolen car, I’ll tell them about the trash can deposits then.

During our walk to her apartment, I filled her in on most of the details of the failed relationship. She was a sympathetic ear and I was happy she never uttered the words. “I told you so.” In case I didn’t mention. She was the one who tried to warn me Courtney was cheating.

“How did you know?” I asked her eventually.

“Do you remember when we all went to the bowling alley and you bowled that crazy high score? Then we spent all that time just the two of us talking?” she looked at me with side eyes until I nodded.

“Well, when I went to the bathroom, I overheard a guy outside bragging about getting it on with her while we were talking. Then I heard it from one of your friends talking about it on the phone at your place. After that, I asked someone I know to hack her phone. You really don’t want to know the extent of what was found. I’m sorry for intruding on your life. You’re an awesome guy and don’t deserve any of that. You didn’t want to believe me so I had to let it go.”

She was right. I didn’t want to believe it at the time.

“Why did you stop coming around?” I asked.

“A few reasons. She saw us chatting at the bowling alley and completely lost it. Then, I confronted her later about what I heard and the way she was treating you was wrong. She eventually became so vindictive she spread the rumor I was sleeping with one of my students and got me fired from my teaching job. I’ve been struggling for work ever since. I’m sorry you need to find out this way but Courtney is really screwed up in the head.”

“She came from an abusive home.” Then I realized I was defending Courtney. “I’m sorry for not listening to you.”

She stopped and really looked at me. “I’m sorry for not trying harder. You don’t deserve any of that.”

I realize the nature of the conversation is leading you to believe I’m feeling completely platonic but let me assure you, I am most definitely not. She looks fantastic in her tight jeans and as we were walking it was very easy to catch a glimpse of her from behind. Her long slow strides make her ass swing deliciously and when she turns at the waist it only accents her figure even more. Courtney knew how to dress slutty but Emily was pulling off casual sexiness without even realizing how good she looked. Maybe she did know, hell if I know what goes through a woman’s head.

She must have noticed me distracted because she turned to look back at me. Her hair swung around her face in a way to only reveal her eyes. Never in my life have I become transfixed just staring into a woman’s eyes. Her beautiful hazel eyes I realized had flecks of blue. The combination of colors in the lighting was amazing to behold. Whatever happened from here on out. I knew I would never forget the way her eyes looked walking down the beach that night. My heartbeat was heavy in my chest and I couldn’t tell you how long it lasted. Neither of us were in a hurry to look away and when the moment finally broke, we didn’t say anything for a long while. Our hands drifted together and we walked mostly in silence until we reached her place.

Emily’s modestly decorated three-bedroom apartment was on the top floor and overlooked the beach. The first thing I noticed was the yelling when she first opened the door. It sounded like a one-way argument. Emily went to one of the bedroom doors and opened it. The bedroom was converted into a gaming room. Meaning, a petite Asian woman was sitting at a desk in front of her keyboard wearing a headset. The theme of the office was Japanese anime mixed with games and superheroes. When the door was opened, she was in the middle of yelling at someone.

Emily smiled and explained, “Kasumi is a big gamer. Don’t mind her, it’s raid night. She will be there for a while. She’s my roommate. Technically, it’s her place and I pay her for a bedroom.” She raised her voice to speak directly to Kasumi. “Are there still leftovers in the fridge?”

“Plenty!” She said without looking up.

Emily tried to introduce us. “Marcus, I would like you to meet my roommate Kasumi.”

“Hi!” she said absently then whipped a double take at me. “Wait Marcus?! Like, holy shit THAT Marcus?! Guys! I gotta go, I’ll explain later. Bye!” She dumped her headset off and sprang out of her chair. Meeting me with her hand extended.

Kasumi was petite, similar in build to Ariel but Kasumi had white and pink hair pulled back in a long ponytail that reached far down her back. She wore a black t-shirt with the band name Rush printed on the front and pink boy shorts underwear.