Post by Rachel on Apr 21, 2008 19:29:11 GMT -5
When Henry Kehl Stopped Breathing
By: Rachel Lese
Henry Kehl was an honest, knowledgeable man. He lived every day as normal and cautious as he could. You see Mr. Kehl was unstable, but not as unstable as me. I would watch him every nigh, walk to the railing surrounding the Chicago River, and cry into his hands. I never knew what he cried about, I didn’t care. Its not that I didn’t like Henry, he just needed to be punished, but it was I who would become submissive. He needed to be punished for his ungratefulness.
The medicine cabinet is my best friend. It calms me in the worst of my rage, and soothes every corrupting, suicidal thought my mind can muster. My pills are my escape. There are 3 sides of the person known as 30 year old Dino Foster. There’s the side that is full of rage, and hatred, the side that continuously visits me. Then there’s a calmer side that depresses easily and is anxious, and compulsive most of the time. And 3rd, the Businessmen that’s the side I choose to let the world see. I have a constant fluctuation of all 3 during the day. A constant reminder of my insanity.
Elevators are the worst part of my day, any small space full of people makes me cringe. I’ve heard of people that are ‘just like me’, and then I start wondering. When they are faced with this anxiety, do they turn to the person next to them, put there hands around their neck, and yell vulgar terms? Because I do, that’s the only way I can stop my anxiety, turn it into rage.
5:26, that’s when I wake up every day of my life. It’s been that way since I could remember. I don’t own any pets, responsibility of another living creature isn’t for me. My apartment is on floor 9, room 89, 35 rooms down to the nearest elevator, my sworn enemy. I rarely eat in the mornings, my medications fill my stomach. The nauseated feeling is uncomfortable for the first hour or so, but I am used to it. I wore jeans and a dress shirt to work on Monday, July 7th. Next is the commute…. It makes me crazy.
The ding of the elevator woke me from a day dreamy state, and then I saw him! Henry Kehl stood in the elevator as well, looking to the ground, talking to himself in low, soft whispers. I pressed floor 1, and stood on the opposite side, farthest away from Henry. He saw me enter and slowly lifted his head to see who had intruded on his internal whimpering. He was unhealthy looking, fat, dirty, and had no life in him at all. He looked into my face and tried to study the expression on my face. His eyes where expressionless, and as black as the life he had led. His lip twitched as he continued to mumble to himself and then he returned to study the carpet below him. I didn’t feel anxious around Henry, we had similar burdens on our hearts, but Henry could fix his burden, I was not so lucky.
Henry Kehl came to live at “Clark Apartments” about 2 years ago. His family of 3 children and his wife had been involved in a brutal church fire in Belleville, IL. After that he came to live with his sister in Chicago. But she couldn’t stand his constant rambling and laziness. He had shut down. The church compensated Henry as well as they could, so he had no reason to work. Just ride the elevator, and stare into the Chicago River. I had overheard this information from a neighbor, I believed him.
I stepped off the elevator onto the 1st floor, and anxiety hit me like drinking sour milk. I could feel as if everyone was looking at me, pointing, laughing. When really they where behaving in their normal daily fashion. I clung to the straps of my backpack and found peace inside my head. The side streets of Chicago where busy at 7 o’clock in the morning, I found as much peace in my head as I could. I headed to the above ground train system known as the ‘Loop’ to most citizens. I purchased my ticket to ride the orange line train to my stop called “LaSelle”. I liked to stand on the train, that way if I became too worried I could walk to another area and try to contain myself. The station was busy this morning. People of all sorts walked, rolled, and limped their way onto the train. I always stood in the corner and spoke to no one, I tried to monitor my breathing every 3 seconds, and think of wide open fields. It was hard to do, especially on busy Monday morning. Preteen girls on there way to their private schools would talk as loud as they could into their glitter cells phones. Newspaper pages where turning constantly, I could always hear a faint hum of Tupac coming from headphones. A tall skinny blonde man ran into the train just in time and headed for the seat near me. As he sat down his messenger bag open accidentally and spilled various sheets of music and fiction novels onto my leg, and landed at my feet.
“Ah, Man, I’m so sorry, the Velcro on my bag has gone to shit” The blonde man said.
I couldn’t say anything, this was my worst fear. Talking to strangers, I wouldn’t do it, I wouldn’t end up like my father. I just closed my eyes and continued to chant inside my head “Laselle, your stop is Laselle, just wait a few more minutes and you will be at Laselle.”
Laselle came and I kept my head pointed toward the ground as I exited the train. The blonde man had apologized numerous times, and cleaned up his mess. I arrived at work and headed straight to my office, where I locked the doors immediately. I pulled out 2 purple pills from my pocket and dry swallowed them. My work was easy and I am completely isolated from any human contact, just how I liked it. I review various business plans and transactions throughout the day and email any comments or suggestions. I didn’t have to interact with anyone, only on meeting days. Then I had to take a double dose of the pill that looked like a small Italian flag. I usually stayed after hours until about 7:30 or so, when the evening rush is slowed down considerably.
I left at 7:45 that day, as I walked down to the train station, I could smell hamburgers in the distance. I wanted to look up and see the sunset on the skyline, but I was felling scared and wanted to get home. I arrived at the station and waited for the train to stop at Laselle, and take me home. I sat on a bench with Kernal Sanders face plastered upon it, he was advertising a new spice…I didn’t care. I wanted to get home, take my dosage, and watched the blackness take over my brain. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe, I was feeling stressed, I needed to hit something. Then I felt the bench shake a little, and I feared for my life.
“Damnit! I left the set list at Joe’s, why can’t I remember anything?” Said the blonde man, ruffling through his broken messenger bag.
My heart skipped a beat, I prayed that he would ignore me…..please don’t confront me!
“Hey? You have a pen I could borrow for a sec.?” he asked
I stood, or sat my ground, and shook my head. My mind reeling in circles screaming “Hit him, tell him to leave you alone and find his own bloody pen!”
“Ah, its okay, I need to start remembering my stuff anyway. I’m Marty by the way, sorry about this morning, I am a klutz.” Marty said with a laugh.
He held out his hand but I dare not take it. I dare not look at him, I will never talk to strangers. My father had done this and lost his life. My mother died when I was very young, and my father was the worst parent you could imagine. He was either drunk, high, or gone most of the time. He had been beaten to death by a mob outside or home, they were just as dangerous, and just as foreign, as the man sitting next to me. I learn from others mistakes, why couldn’t my father. I don’t know why god chose me to burden with such a debilitating thought, and disease; I guess someone had to pay for my fathers sins. My rage, and anxiety problems started in high school, and it had been a downward spiral since then. A downward spiral to therapist, shrinks, doctors, hospitals, and eventually my best friend, the medicine cabinet.
“Hey, you getting on the orange line, cause she’s waiting” Marty said and gave me a poke.
Now I was really starting to get enraged, I don’t like it when strangers touch me. I retreated to my back corner of the train, eyes lowered, mind racing. Marty had obviously gotten my message and gave me plenty of room. The rest of the ride, I let my mind run free. I dreamed of life beyond my everyday routine, I wonder what it would be like. To have friends, and speak confidently to people. I wondered what I would do if I had control, if I could venture in the world.
The train stopped, and I walked fast to my apartment. The meditation didn’t help me much, I was still boiling with anger. I reached for my left pocket but no purple pills remained. Dino control yourself, just get upstairs and it will be okay. I could feel my fists tightening and my mind reeling with grotesque thoughts of how to harm that stranger that darn touch me. I walked into the lobby, and cones where placed around the elevator.
“Out of order” the sign read. My old enemy I need you now! But the elevator didn’t repair itself, it left me standing there, hardly being able to function in my anger.
“Sir the stairs are down that hall to the right, we will have the elevator fixed within and hour or so” said the janitor, who looked foreign and confused.
I stood there breathing deeply in and out, trying to control myself.
“Sir..?”
“Listen, I have got it, I know where the damn stairs are, I have lived here longer than you’ve been in this country!” I yelled into the janitors face.
2 other employee’s heard this and escorted me to the stairs.
“Please sir calm down?” they asked
“Screw this, im going outside for a walk; you failures take your time with the elevator.” I yelled and sprinted out the double doors. I headed towards the Chicago River, Henrys old friend. Henry was there as usual, staring into the black water, wishing he had his old life back. At least he had a good life once, you on the other hand have decided to live in a box. A box with no windows, or smells, or life of any kind. You’re the coward, not Kehl, he has just become a vegetable from time, time and remorse. You went psycho by choice, did you find it easier, easier than facing real life? My other side would repeat in my head. I leaned on the railing extremely close to Henry. He said nothing, just mumbling to himself, mumbling to the capable human that was till inside of him.
“What do you think of this Henry, what do you think of this life us crazy people live day by day?” I asked
He didn’t respond.
“I don’t like it much, I live every day in fear. But when I get angry I turn into the complete opposite. Then I really want people around, so I can beat them senseless.”
I had Henry’s attentions now.
“I envy you, I really do, you can get over this sadness if you want. You can lead a normal life. Me, no way, I need my routine I need my medicine cabinet.” I stated,
I was starting to feel the anger rise up to me ears. I was starting to feel outside myself, as if I was watching this conversation from outside a glass box. I was outside the box now, outside looking in.
“What do you do when you feel rage, Mr. Kehl?” I asked, gripping the metal railing as tight as I could. You could do it if you wanted to, end it. Take Kehl with you. It would be so easy no one cares for him…..he needs to be punished, he needs to what you feel, constant punishment for something you didn’t partake in. My other side was making sense to me now, he needed to know.
Then, Henry Kehl looked up from the black water. He looked up into my brown eyes and gave a short quick spasm of his head.
“What I do….What I do about rage?” Henry said. It was the first time I had heard him speak for the 2 years I had known him.
“I stare into the black water, and then I bleed it out” He said in short gasps, he didn’t talk like a person. He spoke more like a skipping record, in short bits, and then pausing and starting again. It was troubling to hear. He then reached inside his dirty jean pocket and pulled out a small hunting knife. He pulled off the button of his black and red flannel, and rolled the sleeve up to his elbow. Reveling deep red, old scars all up his arm. Hundreds of scars, hundreds of horrid memories.
“I dig deep inside, I try to find where that rage is, and then I rip it out” he said in short gasps.
I couldn’t breathe; Henry was as bad as me if not worse. I had judged him wrongly, as just grievance, but he was just as insane as I was. Henry then dug the knife into his left wrist, and raked it back and forth. The flesh ripped and let loose a red river of anguish. What..why! why is he doing this? My mind screamed. My rage came through now, I couldn’t hold it any longer. I grabbed the knife from Henry and pinned him against the railing. He was losing blood fast, the color in his face was draining….but I didn’t care.
“You want to die so badly, then go die! Be with those who once loved you so. I have no one, no one that I can meet in hell!” I screamed at him.
I then took the small knife and jammed it into his neck, right on top of another scar. Henry didn’t scream, he thanked me for ending his suffering. It was then that Henry Kehl stopped breathing, and I felt as free as I would ever feel in this life.
It was dark now, and no one was around. No one had seen. It took me a long time but I dragged Henrys body to a broken spot on the railing. A broken hole where something had crashed through and sank to the bottom, the very bottom Henry was about to touch. I heaved his large body onto the edge and used my foot to try to shove the rest of him over. It took more strength then I expected and I put some force behind my boots. His body then slid off the edge, but the forceful kick had caused me to slip and lose my balance. I fell to the edge and into the water. I landed near Henry who was already sinking. I started to panic and tried to grab the cement block above the railing. But the water was too low, it was like trying to climb up a flat wall with nothing to grab onto. I started to flail and my black boots started to fill with water, causing me to get heavier and heavier.
I was soon fully underwater, no air. I have no one to meet in hell, no one, I will vanish. Then my rage ended, I felt peace for the first time in 12 long years. My mind was free now, free of all worries and negative thoughts. I couldn’t see anything, my eyes turned black. I just focused in on my heart beat, until it stopped.
By: Rachel Lese
Henry Kehl was an honest, knowledgeable man. He lived every day as normal and cautious as he could. You see Mr. Kehl was unstable, but not as unstable as me. I would watch him every nigh, walk to the railing surrounding the Chicago River, and cry into his hands. I never knew what he cried about, I didn’t care. Its not that I didn’t like Henry, he just needed to be punished, but it was I who would become submissive. He needed to be punished for his ungratefulness.
The medicine cabinet is my best friend. It calms me in the worst of my rage, and soothes every corrupting, suicidal thought my mind can muster. My pills are my escape. There are 3 sides of the person known as 30 year old Dino Foster. There’s the side that is full of rage, and hatred, the side that continuously visits me. Then there’s a calmer side that depresses easily and is anxious, and compulsive most of the time. And 3rd, the Businessmen that’s the side I choose to let the world see. I have a constant fluctuation of all 3 during the day. A constant reminder of my insanity.
Elevators are the worst part of my day, any small space full of people makes me cringe. I’ve heard of people that are ‘just like me’, and then I start wondering. When they are faced with this anxiety, do they turn to the person next to them, put there hands around their neck, and yell vulgar terms? Because I do, that’s the only way I can stop my anxiety, turn it into rage.
5:26, that’s when I wake up every day of my life. It’s been that way since I could remember. I don’t own any pets, responsibility of another living creature isn’t for me. My apartment is on floor 9, room 89, 35 rooms down to the nearest elevator, my sworn enemy. I rarely eat in the mornings, my medications fill my stomach. The nauseated feeling is uncomfortable for the first hour or so, but I am used to it. I wore jeans and a dress shirt to work on Monday, July 7th. Next is the commute…. It makes me crazy.
The ding of the elevator woke me from a day dreamy state, and then I saw him! Henry Kehl stood in the elevator as well, looking to the ground, talking to himself in low, soft whispers. I pressed floor 1, and stood on the opposite side, farthest away from Henry. He saw me enter and slowly lifted his head to see who had intruded on his internal whimpering. He was unhealthy looking, fat, dirty, and had no life in him at all. He looked into my face and tried to study the expression on my face. His eyes where expressionless, and as black as the life he had led. His lip twitched as he continued to mumble to himself and then he returned to study the carpet below him. I didn’t feel anxious around Henry, we had similar burdens on our hearts, but Henry could fix his burden, I was not so lucky.
Henry Kehl came to live at “Clark Apartments” about 2 years ago. His family of 3 children and his wife had been involved in a brutal church fire in Belleville, IL. After that he came to live with his sister in Chicago. But she couldn’t stand his constant rambling and laziness. He had shut down. The church compensated Henry as well as they could, so he had no reason to work. Just ride the elevator, and stare into the Chicago River. I had overheard this information from a neighbor, I believed him.
I stepped off the elevator onto the 1st floor, and anxiety hit me like drinking sour milk. I could feel as if everyone was looking at me, pointing, laughing. When really they where behaving in their normal daily fashion. I clung to the straps of my backpack and found peace inside my head. The side streets of Chicago where busy at 7 o’clock in the morning, I found as much peace in my head as I could. I headed to the above ground train system known as the ‘Loop’ to most citizens. I purchased my ticket to ride the orange line train to my stop called “LaSelle”. I liked to stand on the train, that way if I became too worried I could walk to another area and try to contain myself. The station was busy this morning. People of all sorts walked, rolled, and limped their way onto the train. I always stood in the corner and spoke to no one, I tried to monitor my breathing every 3 seconds, and think of wide open fields. It was hard to do, especially on busy Monday morning. Preteen girls on there way to their private schools would talk as loud as they could into their glitter cells phones. Newspaper pages where turning constantly, I could always hear a faint hum of Tupac coming from headphones. A tall skinny blonde man ran into the train just in time and headed for the seat near me. As he sat down his messenger bag open accidentally and spilled various sheets of music and fiction novels onto my leg, and landed at my feet.
“Ah, Man, I’m so sorry, the Velcro on my bag has gone to shit” The blonde man said.
I couldn’t say anything, this was my worst fear. Talking to strangers, I wouldn’t do it, I wouldn’t end up like my father. I just closed my eyes and continued to chant inside my head “Laselle, your stop is Laselle, just wait a few more minutes and you will be at Laselle.”
Laselle came and I kept my head pointed toward the ground as I exited the train. The blonde man had apologized numerous times, and cleaned up his mess. I arrived at work and headed straight to my office, where I locked the doors immediately. I pulled out 2 purple pills from my pocket and dry swallowed them. My work was easy and I am completely isolated from any human contact, just how I liked it. I review various business plans and transactions throughout the day and email any comments or suggestions. I didn’t have to interact with anyone, only on meeting days. Then I had to take a double dose of the pill that looked like a small Italian flag. I usually stayed after hours until about 7:30 or so, when the evening rush is slowed down considerably.
I left at 7:45 that day, as I walked down to the train station, I could smell hamburgers in the distance. I wanted to look up and see the sunset on the skyline, but I was felling scared and wanted to get home. I arrived at the station and waited for the train to stop at Laselle, and take me home. I sat on a bench with Kernal Sanders face plastered upon it, he was advertising a new spice…I didn’t care. I wanted to get home, take my dosage, and watched the blackness take over my brain. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe, I was feeling stressed, I needed to hit something. Then I felt the bench shake a little, and I feared for my life.
“Damnit! I left the set list at Joe’s, why can’t I remember anything?” Said the blonde man, ruffling through his broken messenger bag.
My heart skipped a beat, I prayed that he would ignore me…..please don’t confront me!
“Hey? You have a pen I could borrow for a sec.?” he asked
I stood, or sat my ground, and shook my head. My mind reeling in circles screaming “Hit him, tell him to leave you alone and find his own bloody pen!”
“Ah, its okay, I need to start remembering my stuff anyway. I’m Marty by the way, sorry about this morning, I am a klutz.” Marty said with a laugh.
He held out his hand but I dare not take it. I dare not look at him, I will never talk to strangers. My father had done this and lost his life. My mother died when I was very young, and my father was the worst parent you could imagine. He was either drunk, high, or gone most of the time. He had been beaten to death by a mob outside or home, they were just as dangerous, and just as foreign, as the man sitting next to me. I learn from others mistakes, why couldn’t my father. I don’t know why god chose me to burden with such a debilitating thought, and disease; I guess someone had to pay for my fathers sins. My rage, and anxiety problems started in high school, and it had been a downward spiral since then. A downward spiral to therapist, shrinks, doctors, hospitals, and eventually my best friend, the medicine cabinet.
“Hey, you getting on the orange line, cause she’s waiting” Marty said and gave me a poke.
Now I was really starting to get enraged, I don’t like it when strangers touch me. I retreated to my back corner of the train, eyes lowered, mind racing. Marty had obviously gotten my message and gave me plenty of room. The rest of the ride, I let my mind run free. I dreamed of life beyond my everyday routine, I wonder what it would be like. To have friends, and speak confidently to people. I wondered what I would do if I had control, if I could venture in the world.
The train stopped, and I walked fast to my apartment. The meditation didn’t help me much, I was still boiling with anger. I reached for my left pocket but no purple pills remained. Dino control yourself, just get upstairs and it will be okay. I could feel my fists tightening and my mind reeling with grotesque thoughts of how to harm that stranger that darn touch me. I walked into the lobby, and cones where placed around the elevator.
“Out of order” the sign read. My old enemy I need you now! But the elevator didn’t repair itself, it left me standing there, hardly being able to function in my anger.
“Sir the stairs are down that hall to the right, we will have the elevator fixed within and hour or so” said the janitor, who looked foreign and confused.
I stood there breathing deeply in and out, trying to control myself.
“Sir..?”
“Listen, I have got it, I know where the damn stairs are, I have lived here longer than you’ve been in this country!” I yelled into the janitors face.
2 other employee’s heard this and escorted me to the stairs.
“Please sir calm down?” they asked
“Screw this, im going outside for a walk; you failures take your time with the elevator.” I yelled and sprinted out the double doors. I headed towards the Chicago River, Henrys old friend. Henry was there as usual, staring into the black water, wishing he had his old life back. At least he had a good life once, you on the other hand have decided to live in a box. A box with no windows, or smells, or life of any kind. You’re the coward, not Kehl, he has just become a vegetable from time, time and remorse. You went psycho by choice, did you find it easier, easier than facing real life? My other side would repeat in my head. I leaned on the railing extremely close to Henry. He said nothing, just mumbling to himself, mumbling to the capable human that was till inside of him.
“What do you think of this Henry, what do you think of this life us crazy people live day by day?” I asked
He didn’t respond.
“I don’t like it much, I live every day in fear. But when I get angry I turn into the complete opposite. Then I really want people around, so I can beat them senseless.”
I had Henry’s attentions now.
“I envy you, I really do, you can get over this sadness if you want. You can lead a normal life. Me, no way, I need my routine I need my medicine cabinet.” I stated,
I was starting to feel the anger rise up to me ears. I was starting to feel outside myself, as if I was watching this conversation from outside a glass box. I was outside the box now, outside looking in.
“What do you do when you feel rage, Mr. Kehl?” I asked, gripping the metal railing as tight as I could. You could do it if you wanted to, end it. Take Kehl with you. It would be so easy no one cares for him…..he needs to be punished, he needs to what you feel, constant punishment for something you didn’t partake in. My other side was making sense to me now, he needed to know.
Then, Henry Kehl looked up from the black water. He looked up into my brown eyes and gave a short quick spasm of his head.
“What I do….What I do about rage?” Henry said. It was the first time I had heard him speak for the 2 years I had known him.
“I stare into the black water, and then I bleed it out” He said in short gasps, he didn’t talk like a person. He spoke more like a skipping record, in short bits, and then pausing and starting again. It was troubling to hear. He then reached inside his dirty jean pocket and pulled out a small hunting knife. He pulled off the button of his black and red flannel, and rolled the sleeve up to his elbow. Reveling deep red, old scars all up his arm. Hundreds of scars, hundreds of horrid memories.
“I dig deep inside, I try to find where that rage is, and then I rip it out” he said in short gasps.
I couldn’t breathe; Henry was as bad as me if not worse. I had judged him wrongly, as just grievance, but he was just as insane as I was. Henry then dug the knife into his left wrist, and raked it back and forth. The flesh ripped and let loose a red river of anguish. What..why! why is he doing this? My mind screamed. My rage came through now, I couldn’t hold it any longer. I grabbed the knife from Henry and pinned him against the railing. He was losing blood fast, the color in his face was draining….but I didn’t care.
“You want to die so badly, then go die! Be with those who once loved you so. I have no one, no one that I can meet in hell!” I screamed at him.
I then took the small knife and jammed it into his neck, right on top of another scar. Henry didn’t scream, he thanked me for ending his suffering. It was then that Henry Kehl stopped breathing, and I felt as free as I would ever feel in this life.
It was dark now, and no one was around. No one had seen. It took me a long time but I dragged Henrys body to a broken spot on the railing. A broken hole where something had crashed through and sank to the bottom, the very bottom Henry was about to touch. I heaved his large body onto the edge and used my foot to try to shove the rest of him over. It took more strength then I expected and I put some force behind my boots. His body then slid off the edge, but the forceful kick had caused me to slip and lose my balance. I fell to the edge and into the water. I landed near Henry who was already sinking. I started to panic and tried to grab the cement block above the railing. But the water was too low, it was like trying to climb up a flat wall with nothing to grab onto. I started to flail and my black boots started to fill with water, causing me to get heavier and heavier.
I was soon fully underwater, no air. I have no one to meet in hell, no one, I will vanish. Then my rage ended, I felt peace for the first time in 12 long years. My mind was free now, free of all worries and negative thoughts. I couldn’t see anything, my eyes turned black. I just focused in on my heart beat, until it stopped.
