A painting sat on the table. I pulled the blinds open letting in the wave of sunlight.
"This painting dear boy is one of only two."
"Yes, in the whole world."
"Not the universe then."
"Oh no, there is one more out there somewhere."
"You must take care of it my boy."
"How did you get in my house?"
"Just... back door was wide open."
Today in the news eight brainy calculators sitting in a tree. One was tired and slipped. Like dominoes they collapsed off of the tree and exploded into electronic pieces.
Only one calculator lived, the one that was tired.
"Let me dilute this water for you."
"OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"
"Accidently stabbed you seven times. I'm so sorry. My eyes are fogged today from the storm."
"I understand, no biggy...."
"You're hiding your true feelings arent you."
"You ARE! I know these things. You're hiding that you're angry with me. Maybe a little dissapointed."
"I'm not.... i swear.."
"Yep, i knew it. Face, blue as a bubble. You need to tell me something, just tell me."
"Oh come on boy! Tell me! You cant keep feelings locked up forever."
"Boy? Releasing blood from your mouth is not polite."
"Boy... lying on the floor of MY classroom is NOT polite."
"Boy.... BOY! DETENTION FOR...... EVER! FOREVER."
"That's it. I'm calling your parents boy."
Half hour later. Teacher is sitting at desk as the parents arrive.
"Oh my god, whats happened to our son."
"He kept something to himself too long, it just took him over."
"Id say so. But imploding suicide."
"Never heard of it."
"I'm a teacher of science so i know."
"Tell us then."
"Ok. Imploding Suicide is when a student of your sons age keeps a secret in without letting it out. Although he really wants to let it out. If something terrible happened to him, like he watched a family member die or something along those lines. A possible reason is he watched me stab him seven times.
Anyway, with normal people they keep it in their head untill they go emo in their 20-30's. But in this case your son was weak and just exploded of Imploding Suicide.
It is basically the body instead of the mind commiting suicide."
"YOU STABBED HIM SEVEN TIMES?"
"Yep. He didnt feel he could speak to me about his reaction to the stabbing."
"YOU KILLED OUR SON!"
"No need to swear. His body was too weak, like a balloon. One needle, pop! Couldnt let out his emotions like others. I'm a professional, i should know."
The mother began to cry.
The teacher continued.
"I believe it is in the genes, weak bones. You look VERY weak. You should eat more guzzle meats."
"WHAT THE HELL."
"I'm so sorry for your loss. As a priest i will organise the funeral free of charge."
"Oh, what a nice man."
- The Daily Crumb