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Suicide to Try

It was the smiling that got to him most, big white toothful smiles completely undone by the look in the eyes above them. He knew that look, that unmistakable anxious hostility. It was a look he grew up around, first as a kid then as an adult. Usually accompanied by soothing messages meant to reassure. Big promises, bright futures, contentment beyond imagining. He saw it used against his family when he was small, saw his family turn around and use it against him. He knew these people, you couldn’t trust these people. It’d be foolish to even consider it.

As a young man you could always just pick up and run away, which is what he would routinely do. Just pack up his things in an old army bag and go. He ran away to Oregon and back, ran clear across the ocean to Spain. He used to pride himself on his inability to tolerate such conditions, couldn’t imagine ever becoming the type of man who would stick it out. He used to have nothing but contempt for such men. Now he couldn't run, he could barely walk. They were stuck together, him and these smilers, at least for the time being. No choice either side. But you couldn't trust these people. It'd be suicide to try.
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