The Suicide Note

“I am not going to say this again, either you pick up the pen and write the words I tell you to, exactly as I tell you to, or I am going to get mad. I am not a nice person when I get mad. You do not want to see me mad.”

Ethan Michaelson, his dark eyes focused intently on the man hovering over him, refused to look at the pen and paper that had been set in front of him. He had no desire to give into the threats the man was making.

Holding eye contact with the man, Ethan hoped to hold out long enough to cause the man to relent and let him go. Not that he was overly optimistic about the chances of that happening.

As he sat there, staring into the deep blue eyes of his capture, he kept reminding his body to remain calm. If he didn’t stay calm, there was no way he was going to survive. His survival was all he could allow himself to focus on.

The staring contest was suddenly broken when the man made a quick lunge toward Ethan, slamming his fists against the table as he did. Not the response that made Ethan feel in control of the situation.

“I told you to pick up the pen,” came the man’s words, this time hissed in a hostile, threatening manner.

“I am starting to get mad now. You do not want to see me get mad.”

Reaching forward, he picked up the pen and held it inches from Ethan’s eyes, spinning it so the point was dangerously close to them on a couple of these rotations. He was beginning to show the signs of hostility Ethan had been hoping to avoid.

As the man set the pen back on the paper, Ethan lifted his hands, bound with thick, black zip ties onto the table, laying them next to the pen.

As the man hovered, he went over his options. He could pick up the pen, lunge forward and try to stab his captor. If successful, he stood a better than average chance of escaping.

No doubt the man was anticipating this. If not, he would not be deliberately hovering in a threatening manner. He wanted Ethan to make the first move.

Ethan, sensing this, let his shoulders go slack as he slumped into a defeated pose. If the man wanted a fight, he was going to be disappointed. Fighting with one’s hands bound was not wise. It was a certain way to end up dying in a rather painful manner.