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The End of the Road (standard:drama, 1487 words)
Author: TJCAdded: Jun 24 2008Views/Reads: 2320/1239Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Following a tragic loss, a man feels there's only one thing he can do to stop the pain.

The End of the Road 

Seth Armstrong's hands were shaking as he took off his uniform.  It was
probably the last time he'd ever take it off. The past two seasons had 
been abysmal, winning only nine games against twenty-two losses.  
Before his life had changed, his career as a major league pitcher had 
been magical; five twenty win seasons, a couple of World Series titles, 
and more than likely a future trip to the Baseball Hall of Fame.  All 
distant memories it seemed now.  He'd been getting killed and the worst 
part was the fact he didn't give a damn.  He didn't care about a god 
damn thing anymore. 

“Think this might be it, Seth?” The reporter asked.  Seth hated having
to get showered and dressed with clothed baseball writers hanging 
around.  He'd never gotten used to it.  Though he wasn't rude to them, 
he told them all the same thing and tried to be as dull as he could. 

“We'll see,” was all he said.  He was done and he knew it.  He was done
in more ways than one.  He knew that too. 

As quickly as he could, Seth showered and quickly left the clubhouse. 
Before getting into his dark green Jaguar he signed some autographs for 
some kids who'd waited patiently.  While he signed he made small talk 
but didn't even know what he was saying, for his thoughts were on 
getting home to the privacy of his gated house and on a night two years 

They were late getting home and there was no answer on his wife's cell
phone.  Seth wasn't one to worry normally, but they had plans that 
evening to visit his parents who were about to head off on a cruise.  
Summer was his wife of fifteen years and she had gone to pick up some 
groceries with Autumn, their twelve year-old daughter. They were his 
loving seasons, he always said.  He almost never went with them 
anywhere because being recognized as a member of the Diamondbacks made 
any trip turn into a commotion.  Standing outside his front door he 
once again tried the cell and got Summer's voice mail. Seth was about 
to call his parents when he saw the police vehicle coming down his 
street.  A ghastly, knowing feeling filled his stomach.... 

Following the tragic loss of his family in a car accident, Seth let
himself drift into depression and anger.  Nothing could stop it.  His 
parents, his friends, teammates and fans all tried to show him caring 
warmth but he pushed them all away with a sullen, distant demeanor. 
Most of all he blamed himself and turned his anguish into self 
loathing. So filled with the black cloak of hate- he hadn't even cried 
about the loss of his family.  Instead he'd ranted and raved, broke 
chairs and furniture, most of which still littered his home, and shut 
himself off from everyone and anyone.  It was his fault, and he was 
determined never to cry and rather just blame himself and never let 
himself forget it. Pitching baseball games became a chore rather than 
his life's passion.  Had he not been so focused on winning baseball 
games he might have been with his family more and he could have gone 
out in public with them like normal people.  Perhaps he'd have been 
with them on that fateful night and prevented the accident or least 
have been lucky enough to leave this crappy world with them.  He felt 
so alone, so angry, so lost..... 

Once he arrived home, Seth watched the sports reports and of course
there was a report on the rumored end of the road for the once great 
Seth Armstrong.  He turned it off and went to take a leak in the toilet 
that he rarely cleaned.  Nobody ever came in his house anymore and he 
saw no reason to clean it.  He never even allowed his mom and dad to 
come over.  Seth Armstrong wanted nobody and needed nobody.  Fuck the 
world, he constantly said to himself.  Much of his anger and depression 
was further irritated by a lack of sleep.  He never got a good night's 
sleep.  It was the dreams that kept him awake.  That horrible night 
over and over, the police telling him there had been an accident and 
that he'd best come with them.  The sight of his wife and daughter on 
stretchers, blood stained sheets over their bodies, flashing lights and 
squelches of radios, and concerned stares over the place. 

The dreams had been bad enough, but then the visions started.  Seth
wasn't sure if he'd thought of suicide before the visions appeared, or 
if thoughts of his own departure came as a result of them.  Did it 
matter?  Probably not, he thought.  Leaving this world was all he had 

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