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Zachariah had not always been this way. He had not always wondered aimlessly around his empty feeling house. He had laughed, he had smiled, he he had been like any other normal man. With a good career, a bright future, and a beautiful wife, he had every reason to enjoy the sunshine, and all the simple things that came with every day. He HAD enjoyed the sunshine, all those simple things, and all the leisurly days he had spent with his wife.
Then daisy left. And He didn't know why. Zachariah awoke to a note in the bed where her slinder sillhoutte should have been. Instead, his searching arms found air, and his tentative fingers found the sharp edges of the crisply folded paper.
Expecting a note full of "sweet nothings," he casually unfolded the neat creases. Instead, his eager eyes found nothing but eleven heart breaking words, and a closing that seemed to punctuate and solidify her sudden, bitter goodbye.
It read "I packed nothing but my heart and ran with the wind. Love, daisy."
So it was in this manner that Zachariah Regal lost his love, both his wife, and his love for life. He found no reason to live other than to go through his loves' things that had been left behind, looking for clues as to what might have caused such a display of spontanity.
From then, he confined himself to the house in which he had spent those long, leisurly days with her, and where he could stay aquanted with the familiar scent of what she had left behind. His clean cut beard had been neglected and had grown to be the heavy, dark scruff that now disguised his square cut jaw.
The tan he had kept all his life faded, along with his desire to socialize with anyone but the large dog, Xabier, that had inhabited his house as long as Daisy had.
To his amazement, Daisy had left Xabier behind, and he often found himself talking to the Mastiff, as it sometimes lifted his spirit, or mood.
"What today, Xabier? What will we do?" The man would ask pathetically. The dog simply tilted her head and looked at Zachariah with what seemed to be empathy in her eyes. The man knew Xabier was mourning, just as much as himself.
The dog had belonged to Daisy before their marriage, and had been part of the package when they moved in with each other. Though never a k9 person, Zachariah defiantly loved the dog, and now found comfort and painfully sweet memories, when he lay his head on her fur.
Xabier became Zachriah's only companion in the days that he spiraled deeper and deeper into depression and closer to the edge.
She also became his last reason to keep his thoughts of suicide in check and tucked away.
Not that it wasn't something he had contemplated; suicide. He HAD contemplated it. A lot. There had not been a day when he had gone through his daily schedule without thinking about how hopless this life was, and how he could simply end it and all his misery.
He looked at the dog. "What would happen to you, Xabier?" He asked. The dog simple lifted her massive head, looked at her companion, and laid it back down. Her action was very loose, and it make Zachariah feel as if even Xabier had stopped caring.
With the idea fresh in his mind, he calmly walked to the bathroom, picked up his shaving kit, and began to rummage for his stainless steel razor. Determined to not talk himself out of it, he began to rant and rave reasons to continue his actions.
"I could just end it. I would rather not feel anything and face what comes after death than face every day without a reason to live. This may be a cowards way out, but, now, I am surely a coward."
With his last words, Zachariah's fingers found the razor. His strong grip and callased fingers peeled apart the pieces until, finally, he had a sharp metal rectangle in his palm. He was doubting the blade's ability to do the job, when he plunged it deep into his wrist.
At first, the stinging was unbearable. Then slowly, the pain shifted into tiredness, and Zachariah's body slumped, growing heavy against the bathroom cabinets. Eager for everything to end, he pushed harder and deeper into his veins. Feeling nothing but the extreme exhaustion, and seeing nothing but the creeping black, he pushed one last time into his wrist, and then felt all control leave his body. He was gone. He had escaped, pherhaps, from the pain that feels much worse than the pain of dying.
At this exact moment, Xabier let a bone chilling howl escape from her throat, loud enough to wake the dead, and sad enough to stun the already gone.