[2006: MAR-APR] The Consequence of Happiness

[Sirkit]

Created for Lance, good luck everyone.

[Lance]

Thank you, I owe you one.

The Consequence of Happiness

We all know how there are ups and downs in life, sometimes the downs seem too low to crawl out of. But what would happen if there were no downs, no sadness, just a feeling of joy, all the time?

During that time in my life, I was depressed. My wife had just died and all my children had left me. I was wondering what to do with myself. I had no job because the one I did have I got fired from, following the tragedy. Why did she have to die? Why was I destined to live here without spouse or companion? I needed to get away from it all; I needed to get my mind off of what had happened. It was then I decided to go to that marketplace. It was there were I ruined my life. It was there where I lost all everything, even the will to do anything at all.

I had just arrived at the market when I heard shouting. “Feeling down? Hoping to get some kind of moral boost? Well here it is! A drug that does wonders. No more feeling depressed, no more negative thoughts at all! Just one pill and you can feel the difference!” Now I wish I had never heard those words.

Thinking to myself, “What is the worst that can happen? They don’t work? Then I will just be back at square one.” I couldn’t have been more wrong. I decided to go and order that wonder drug, not thinking of the possible consequences. The next day the drug came in. I examined it, it looked so harmless and benevolent. I would never have guessed that this pill would bring such evil. After looking at the pill, I took one. To my surprise, I was suddenly feeling happy. I was ecstatic and I had no idea why. There was no time before in my life that I have ever felt this happy. The feeling lasted the entire day and I went to sleep, feeling content and at ease, which hasn’t happened since that dreadful day.

That next day I woke up feeling terrible. All I could focus on was death and sorrow, sadness was eating away at me. I just had to get to that pill, I needed that feeling again, and I needed to be happy. Soon I found the pill box and took another one. It didn’t work. My mind was going crazy, I soon took another pill and I was in eternal bliss....until the next day.

The third day was probably my point of no return. As soon as I woke up, I quickly took 3 pills just to make sure that I wouldn't feel any sadness or grief. I went to the store and saw one of my old fellow workers. We started talking, although he seemed nervous. After much talking I finally coaxed out what he was so nervous about, he had been promoted to my old position. After hearing this, there was no help for me. I ran home and took 2 more pills and I was again happy. I never read the warning label on the box. I wish I had now. It had said, "More than 4 pills a day can lead to addiction, psychosis, and dependency." I eventually did read that label the next day, but I didn't care, the pill to me was not harmful. To me it was a lifesaver, something that kept me full of joy and away from the darkness. I never realised it would lead me to what I was avoiding.

Every day I took one more pill than I did the day before. I was soon paying for a pillbox a day, which soon became 2 and 3 boxes. I needed that feeling; I needed to never feel sad ever again, I couldn't handle the bad things in life. My appearance changed, I stopped shaving, stopped eating as much, and lost every friend I knew. I was a monster, changed by the pill. I couldn’t stop, I lost all control. My body was no longer mine! I sold my house, I started taking out loans to pay for drugs.

After a year I ran out of money, I was addicted to the happy drug. I turned to a life of crime; petty thievery is how I continued to pay. One day a man at the store refused to let me buy another box of the pills. Unable to control myself, I killed him. I raided the store and took as many pillboxes as I could carry. Running out of the store, loud horns were heard behind me. I was soon caught and arrested, and put into jail.

The first day was OK; my mind did not yet know that I could no longer make it feel happy. The second day I was in excruciating pain, I wasn't sure if I would be able to survive. On the third day I didn't wake up, my mind was shot, too far into addiction; I went into a coma, where I tell my story to myself. Day after day after day……

THE END

Edited April 18, 2006 by Lance