Suicides and Saxophones
I went to junior high with this kid Ben Jameson*. We played saxophone together. He was always one chair ahead of me. I liked Ben. We goofed off together. He had great hair. His mom was hot, just like mine.
After eighth grade, Ben and his family moved a few towns over, so he attended a different high school. I never saw him again. Over the years, my mom became friends with his mom. Probably a Hot Moms Lunch Group or something.
I saw Ben’s mom at one of my mom’s New Year’s Day parties at her apartment around 2009 or so. She was still hot. I asked how Ben was and all that. Usual catch up stuff. Ben was well. No earth-shattering news on that front.
Not long after that, her younger son, Ben’s little brother (duh) killed himself. Pretty horrible stuff. He had been full of mental health issues, so it goes... sadly.
Then, a few months later, Mrs. Jameson was found hanging from a rafter in her garage. Dead.
But here’s the terrible part: The car was completely out of gas and the battery was dead. And in the back seat was a pillow with an indentation from someone’s head. Mrs. Jameson tried to kill herself with carbon monoxide. When that didn’t work, she woke up, fashioned a noose and took that last step.
Serious commitment. Serious horror. Serious heartbreak.
Ben lost his brother and mother in the same year to suicide.
I wonder if he still plays the sax.
*The names have been changed out of respect for the living and the dead.
