CONTENT WARNING: This story contains depictions of suicide.

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“Hey everyone. I’m Reece.” 

“Hi Reece,” the rest of the people in the room responded, each one sharing the same, monotone voice. They all sat in a circle on simple, brown wooden chairs in the vast hall, the emptiness around them pressing against them like walls. 

“I, uh…” Reece cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head. “I’m fifty-two, and a few years ago, my wife divorced me. I got drunk one night and… And I hit her. In the face. Really hard.” He swallowed hard, choking back tears. “I didn’t mean to. She was the love of my life, I just… I couldn’t control myself. I-I’m sorry,” he sobbed, breaking down into tears and sitting back down on his seat. 

“It’s alright to cry,” the group leader, Charles, said, getting up and walking over to Reece with his cane, putting a warm hand on his shoulder. “There are no judgements made here.” 

“I-I know. It’s just a lot,” Reece cried into his hands. “My family hates me. The courts took my kids away from me. I’ve got nothing, all because I had a few extra beers that night.” 

Charles’ mouth formed a thin line, and he gripped Reece’s shoulder harder. “You have us, Reece. At least that’s more than nothing. We know, at heart, you’re a good person. Your life isn’t over yet; you can still turn things around for yourself. We’re here to help.” 

“Thank you,” he sobbed, sniffling and wiping his eyes. 

“No. Thank you, for sharing. It’s difficult to talk about the things that we’ve done, that we’re sorry for. You’ve just demonstrated to everyone else here that it’s okay to be vulnerable, to confide in others. We’re all here to help, and now, everyone here knows you’ll be here to help them, too.” 

There was a small round of applause from the rest of the participants, and Charles saw Reece’s lips curl into a small, grateful smile through the tears. He pat him on the shoulder before slowly walking back to his place, grunting as he sat back down, and leaning the cane against the chair. 

“Now, I’m sure our friend Reece has given us all a boost in confidence to share, hasn’t he? We should all be thankful for everyone else here, for taking the time to listen to our stories and support us through our struggles. Who’d like to go next?” 

After a brief silence, a woman a few seats from Charles cleared her throat. “Um… Hello. I’m Sadie.” She fidgeted with her fingers, and Charles noticed a wedding band on one of them, accompanied by a rather extravagant engagement ring. 

“Hi Sadie,” the rest of the group droned. 

“Hi,” she muttered back, almost robotically, staring at the ground. “I… Um, I was driving. One day. And I was on my phone, texting my friend.” 

Charles’ eye twitched as he listened, and he leaned forward on his chair, clasping his hands together. 

“I wasn’t… wasn’t looking. I was coming up to a pedestrian crossing, and the road was so empty, I didn’t even think to look up. But I-I hit something. Someone.” Tears were beginning to form in her eyes, and Charles clenched his jaw. “I just kept driving. Th-there was no one around, so I thought it would be okay to… To…” Her sentence dissolved into a fit of cries and sobs, and she covered her face with her hands. “I’m a horrible person. I remember it every single day. I don’t even know who I hit, I don’t even know if they’re okay!” 

“When was this?” Charles asked, his voice devoid of the compassion he bestowed upon Reece. 

“Eighteen years ago,” she sobbed, wiping her nose with her sleeve. 

“Where?” 

“The crossing on Jackson Lane, n-near the park.” 

“I see.” Charles breathed out heavily through his nose and stood up, walking to Sadie and placing his hand on her shoulder, just like he did with Reece. She shifted uncomfortably, edging away from him. 

“O-ow, that hurts,” she whimpered, and Charles relaxed his grip. 

“Sorry,” he said, his hand trembling on her shoulder. “I was… swept up in your emotion. It’s a terrible thing you did, that’s true.” 

Silence fell as he stood there, unmoving, watching her cry, his gaze bearing down on her like an interrogation lamp. 

“But you should forgive yourself!” One of the other members of the group said, and everyone turned to look at him. “It was so long ago, and you haven’t stopped beating yourself up. I’m sure you check constantly while you’re driving now. Your actions show how sorry you are, and I’m sure the person you hit is alive and well, and they’d forgive you!” 

The circle murmured in agreement, and Sadie wiped her eyes. “You really think so?” 

“I do!” he said, trembling a little, his eyes darting to the other members of the room. “I-isn’t that what this group is for? Believing that we’re better than before, and that we still deserve to live good lives, even if we’ve done terrible things in the past!” 

The group slowly started to clap, and he shrank back in his seat, a shy smile on his face. 

“Thank you,” Sadie said, after the claps subsided. “I’ll try.” 

The rest of the group went around, saying their pieces, consoling each other and offering guidance. A swift hour went by, and everybody said their goodbyes, marking their calendars for the same time next week. All, except for Charles. 

Charles stayed seated, waiting for everybody to leave. Sadie and the man who had comforted her were the last to go, loitering at the back of the hall for some time. Just as Sadie was about to step out the door, Charles spoke up. 

“Stop.” 

She froze, turning around to face him. “Yes? What is it?” 

Charles looked into her eyes, grinding his teeth. “Come here.” 

She frowned, but obliged nonetheless, walking back to the circle of chairs. 

“Sit.” 

“Is there something you need from me?” 

Charles reached behind him and into the waistband of his pants, sliding out a revolver and aiming it directly at her, cocking the mechanism. “Yes. There is.” 

“Oh, my God,” she gasped, raising her hands into the air. “What’s going on?” 

“Do you know why I began this group?” 

She shook her head frantically, her eyes wide and her hands shaking violently. His gaze did not falter. 

“I had a daughter, once. Lorelei. She was the light of my life, especially after my wife lost her battle with cancer.” 

“I-I’m sure she’s wonderful!” she babbled, swallowing hard. 

“Quiet!” he shouted, and she jumped a little in her seat. “Let me finish.” 

She nodded frantically, shutting her mouth. He continued. 

“On the day before her sixteenth birthday, I set up a scavenger hunt for her. She loved puzzles, you see. I went all around town, setting up little games and clues. On the day, I sent her out, and I expected her to be back by five, at the latest.” His hand holding the gun started to shake, and he felt a tear roll down his cheek. “I waited. Hours went by. By eight, I’d had enough waiting. Do you know what I found when I finally went out to look for her?” 

Sadie quickly shook her head. 

“No, you wouldn’t know. You never even bothered to look at what you’d done.” 

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Charles, I’m—” 

“She would have been thirty-four this year,” he sobbed, his finger rubbing the trigger. “Maybe had a husband, children of her own. But we’ll never know, will we?” 

“Charles, please! I’m so, so sorry! I wish I could go back and stop myself, I wish I could!” she cried, clasping her hands together. 

“Sorry doesn’t bring my fucking daughter back!” he yelled, standing up so quickly that his chair toppled backwards. “I started this group, because I knew that eventually, whoever did that despicable thing to my daughter would have that guilt inside them, churning and roiling, and they’d eventually want to talk to someone. Not their family, certainly not the police. But strangers?” he scoffed. “People who would see those tears of remorse and immediately absolve you, no matter how heinous your act was? What a perfect fucking audience.” 

“Please don’t do this,” Sadie whimpered. “I’ve got children too. I understand how you feel, if I lost one of them, I’d want revenge too!” 

“I didn’t just lose her. I lost everything that day!” he roared, and she shrank back further, sobbing even louder. “She was the only thing I had left, and you just left her there on the fucking road like she was nothing!” 

“Please… Please stop…” 

There was an ear-splitting bang, and just like that, the sobbing and wailing stopped. 

Charles lowered the gun, the barrel smoking. There was a hole in Sadie’s forehead, her face locked in eternal fear and remorse as the blood leaked down. 

Charles just stood there, staring at the body in front of him. No thoughts ran through his head, no emotions, just a pit of emptiness. 

He raised the gun once more, and pushed the barrel to his temple, cocking the mechanism as he went. 

Taking one final breath and closing his eyes, he pulled the trigger.