Suicide Notes From the Loveliest Creatures
Through these short stories, I explore the possibility of facing death as a rather light subject.
The Funny Bunny
Don’t Eat Evil Berries
Dear Tony, this is my last letter. You won’t believe what my foxy eyes saw today! I was up in the mountain just wandering; when suddenly, I came across the most beautiful mouse, you wouldn’t believe it, it was grey and shiny like silver and had this perfect rounded shape, a real wonder of nature I must say, a delicious one too. So you should bring your white fox butt up here someday; I know you’ll enjoy a snack like that, just kidding, I know you can’t come down here anymore; besides, you only eat berries. Hey Tony, you know Gloria, the wolf? I know I’m talking to myself here, but you were right; she’s a total bitch; I saw her howling with Monkey Jack by The Evil Berry Field (I started calling it like that since you told me they were poisonous). Now that I mention evil; Remember your friend Hopkins, the comedian? I haven’t seen him in a while; he must be really busy roasting those poor tortoises. And talking about slow things, the effect of The Evil Berries is slower than I expected; it doesn’t matter, though, cause as soon as they hit my immune system, I’ll be meeting you again, this time will be forever.
Your friend and lover.
Who’s a Good Boy?
Dear Bob, you’re a dick! But anyway I decided to write this note as a final gesture of respect for the past. We did have some good times throwing the stick and chasing those goddamn pigeons in the park, but you changed bruh, you started hunting all those poor ducks and asked me to retrieve them, and I was like yo that’s crazy, But I’m a Golden Retriever, What else was I suppose to do? I retrieve things, that’s how I roll, and then after I was finished with my criminal complicity duty, you would ask me, Who’s a good boy? And I wasn’t sure at the time, but then you took it too far, Robert, you human scum, you killed Jessica, the loveliest Lady Duck I ever knew, Not cool! I was going to take her to the forest to see the Bunny Hopkins Show; we had plans, man! Her rich uncle was going to help us get a sweet house and everything, I guess you got jelly and shot her down like you did with that Sheriff (thank God you did not shoot the Deputy too), and then you made me bring her body back to you, and I knew then that I wasn’t a good boy anymore. We were bros Bob, but you screwed up, now I got no reason to live, I’m gonna eat this chocolate I found in your jacket and say goodbye to the world. BTW dude, this Snickers is sick!
Your Ex best friend.
Beauty Sleep Forever
G’Day, Ernest, I’m burring this note right where we used to hang; I hope it gets to your deepest roots. The rain stopped yesterday, all the animals are back now; even Dundee showed up wearing those awful Crocs. The rabbits are out too, I just saw Martha Hopkins running in tears to the south, I wonder what she’s up to, there’s nothing but the cliffs down there; well, at least lately she’s not arguing with Bunny, they used to wake me up all the time. Remember when they got super noisy that night? I yelled: “Get a room, or a hole or something. Damn bogans!”; and then you said: “Good on ya! a Koala needs its beauty sleep.” Those were good times. On an unrelated note, everybody’s going off these days, having barbies near The Wonder and all; they’re even charging like 30 quid to see the bloody thing, but to me is not worth a zack; that thing is the reason why I can’t see you anymore. By the way, The Wonder is what everyone’s calling the meteorite that came with the storm; I ripped off a little piece of it and brought it to our place; it turns out the thing is radioactive as hell, and it’s actually killing me very softly. Funny how such a wonderful thing can kill us both; maybe the world wasn’t ready for us, Ernest. I’m getting sleepy now; I guess I’m gonna take a nap with Stevie, my new little wonder rocky alien deadly mate; this will be my last beauty sleep; this one is forever.
Your favorite Tree Hugger.
The Fleas Want Blood!
Dear Doris, Please Do NOT eat this letter; I’m serious, deadly serious, take your mouse tongue off the paper and keep reading; this is important. You didn’t know this, but I got a particular set of fleas; I met them at the beach in the summer of 1969. One night, Bryan, my main flea, took us to this big party for mice at The Box Mansion of Bella Catstripes, the infamous cat Duchess. The place was filled with all kinds of black, white, brown, blonde, big, small, fat, skinny, fluffy pussies; there was even a freaky one with absolutely no hair. Bryan and the boys ran straight to the duchess office, and I had to work my way through the crowd; when I made it to the door, it was too late; Bella was lying dead on the ground, and Bryan was jumping out the window with a bag of money, so when the police came I rat them out. They went to prison for almost fifty years. Last week they got out, they’re here Doris, I can hear them whisper on my skin, the fleas want blood and not just mine, they want yours too, but don’t worry, I’m gonna end this now. I’m heading to the red mountains, the legendary killer fox Regina territory, she’ll think I’m just lost, but I’ll be expecting her sharp teeth around my neck and with them; the end of Bryan and the gang; and of course, my own demise. So this is goodbye, my dear; I loved you every day of my life (despite your paper addiction) and will always love you.
You can eat this letter now, your loving husband.
Dear John, YOU’RE FIRED! When did I permit you to “get us” a bloody dog? You’re not even allowed to use your things when I’m sitting on them. I did not hire you to do whatever you want; the sole purpose of your little existence is to feed me, the same way you did with Shelly, except she was crazy. Remember when she thought you stole her frozen burrito and tried to kill you with a pizza cutter? Those were good times. It’s cute, though, even prettier now that it is not moving anymore. Oh, sorry, I forgot to mention, I killed the dog; I had no choice; it licked me—that little love monster. I don’t believe in love, John; once I felt butterflies in my belly like humans do, but it was just a hairball. Come to think of it, love is like a hairball; one day, you’re just licking your paws, taking care of yourself, suddenly a terrible ache strikes you like a thousand mice running through your veins, and you feel like you’re going to lose all of your lives. Still, there’s nothing you can do about it; that hairball is coming out scratching you from the inside; you eventually get over it until the next hairball comes along, and it all starts again. You were my last hairball, John. Anyway, this is my goodbye; you’ll find my body next to the dog’s; taking my own life is my last act of revenge; I’ll be fine cause I’m a goddess, but you’ll have to deal with it every night.
Hello Bunny. If love hurts, as they say, then this might be the greatest love note I’ve ever written. I killed Martha; I never liked my place in this unfortunate love triangle; I know I will never be like her, with those beautiful long ears that fall like the curtains of a royal palace and her ability to create warmth with her fur. I couldn’t do a lot, actually, but the universe would shake to the rhythm of my body when you played your flute, and I danced out of my basket; those days, the wind would sing for us with a gentle whistle; those days are gone. She knew tho, Martha, to me, she was always the evil character of our love tale; turns out, I was the villain the whole time. She’s gone now, and soon I’ll join her; it was only fair, I bite myself too, and now we’re both drifting on the edge of life. You’ll be fine, you’ll meet somebody new, just remember; secrets are dangerous, keeping them might lead you to the bottom of a cliff.