The Boots My Mother Gave Me
(An Amazon Breakthrough Novel Quarter Finalist)
by Brooklyn James
Suicide, death, it doesn’t affect the deceased, only the living, those of us left behind. Death in any form is difficult, but suicide’s a real bitch. It’s demoralizing. Most of us put a high value on life. When someone close to us, someone we love, decides life is no more valuable than death, it contaminates our thoughts, makes us reevaluate life, its meaning, purpose, worth.
Some say suicide runs in families, like any other disease. Does that mean my fate is a bullet through my flesh by my own hand? Suicide used to be a topic distant from me, tragic and nonsensical. Now it’s forever a part of me, a little piece in the fabric of my family legacy. Writers like Shakespeare have glorified it, romanticized it. Others like Plath made it a part of their own destiny, suicide. Maybe it is the only way for some. I wouldn’t propose to tell anyone how to die, no more than I want to be told how to live. But their choices will forever affect those they leave behind.
All of my life, I have borne the weight of my father’s shortcomings. And of my own choosing, I probably will continue to do so, pushing myself, trying harder next time, fully attempting to prove worthy. My dad was one of the most capable, talented, intelligent people I ever knew. But he threw it all away. Chewed it up and spit it out. For what? Addiction? A lost childhood? He could have been so much more. He wouldn’t take responsibility for his life. He wouldn’t own it, but I do own mine.
*This book has an accompanying original music soundtrack (written and performed by the author).
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