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Joshua West is a twenty-five year old physics graduate. He has lived the life of a recluse in his parent’s comfortable Cambridge home for two years. Joshua has been influenced by the Japanese phenomenon called Hikikomori whereby thousands of young men have withdrawn from society. Having had plenty of time to ponder his situation he has concluded that he is now obsolete. Joshua is therefore preparing himself and his family for his imminent act of ritualistic suicide. Part of his preparation involves writing a series of death poems which he reads to his family. His parents are dealing with this situation stoically while his little sister is trying to persuade him not to die prematurely for her sake. Joshua is convinced that he is doing God’s work by taking his own life. This text also deals with the effects of the changing role of young men in a modern society where women are beginning to take on a more masculine working role. There are some lighter moments in this very dark novella but it deals mainly with a young man struggling to cope with his own imminent mortality.
John Flannery
John Flannery was born in 1963. He was brought up in Manchester but he now lives in Fleetwood. John studied Housing Studies at the University of Westminster and graduated in 1992. He decided to become a writer of fiction in 1986 but he did not start writing in earnest until 1995. In 2010 he self-published a collection of short stories entitled Toby's Little Eden and Other Stories that was greeted by a huge tidal wave of public indifference that still overwhelms him to this day. In 2012 he self-published a small collection of short stories called Our Little Secret and Other Stories. He has also published a collection of stries entitled Our Little Secret and Other Stories, a debut novel called God's Gift, and a novella called The Place. In September 2013 John published a novella called Billy Atherton. In November 2013 John published another novella entitled Joshua's Withdrawal. They are all published on Amazon Kindle.
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Joshua's Withdrawal - John Flannery
Joshua’s Withdrawal
John Flannery
Copyright © 2013 John Flannery
Joshua West holds the samurai tanto knife above his head:
Let this be my testament. Let this message go around the world. Let me die with dignity. I’ve seen enough and they don’t need me anymore. They don’t need me. I’m no longer essential for life so let me die…in peace. Imagine a world without me. It’s easy. It’s easily done. The elders have spoken. They’ve given me their blessing. God’s contemplating my fate. The sword of Damocles hangs above me. It’s been there most of my adult life. I’ve got used to it. It’s above me for a good reason. Nature doesn’t like long-term passengers. Parasites usually have a lowly status. They’re a necessary evil to be tolerated. I withdrew from society two years ago and I’m sponging off my esteemed parents. God’s evolution is at work. There are no hard feelings. I’m a man. That’s my problem. That’s the good reason. They have made their choice. They have decided which ones they want and which ones are to be discarded. FA stable family life was our genetic reason for living but now it’s gone. They’ve decided against me. I’m obsolete. They know what they want, what they need. I accept the verdict. The chosen few will survive. I’ve turned away from the battle. You can call me a coward if you want but I wasn’t in the flow of the stream of life. I tried, I really did. My Support Team will tell you that. I put them through hell. The stakes were high and the punishment severe. Never call me a loser. Nature turned its back on me. Nature is the urging me to die soon. Beware the wounded animal. I had a few arguments with Nature—and I won a few! There’s not much wrong with me except obsolescence. My sell by date is getting closer and I’ve got so much to say—so much to prove. Listen to me because you’ll probably know somebody like me. In Japan they call people like me Hikikomori which means acute social withdrawal. There are many thousands of us around the globe. You might even be like me, one of us. I understand you but I don’t need or want friends. I’m happy with my own little tragedy. I really don’t care about yours. Save it for your Support Team. Tell them about it, not me. I don’t care. I probably won’t like you, anyway. We don’t need a trade union. We don’t need psychologists. We don’t need sociologists. We don’t really need anybody to understand us. We’re a very simple organism, an organism without a reason to live. We’re not essential anymore. No hard feelings. It’s time to go. Good night and God bless. Only He can save us. If I don’t hear from Him then I’ll be going pretty soon. Only He alone can enlighten us. I can only speculate but my instincts demand that I go pretty soon. My Support Team must know that I’m on the edge. It’s around the time that they pay homage to me. I’m starving. All this thinking and talking is wearing me out. You’ve got to cut me some slack and take into consideration my wear and tear. There’s nothing wrong with my brain and nothing wrong with my balls. I’m not to blame. I did my best but did they do all they could to preserve my genetic legacy? Did they write me off too easily? Did they? It’s too late. I’ve made my mind up. Me and my fellow knights know the score. There are many of us. We’ve got a very loose federal structure but we rarely communicate openly. We’re far too selfish to talk to each other. Our wilful isolation is a kind of suicide. The real thing is close by. All it takes is a leap in the dark. Real and proper suicide is only a small move away. All it takes is a relatively small movement of this tanto knife from left to right and then the darkness.
There is a knock at the bedroom door and Joshua’s mother enters the bedroom with a plate of food. She notices Joshua’s ritual suicide knife:
You don’t need that bloody thing. I’ve brought you a knife and fork,
said mum.
Thank you, the steak is much appreciated. I think I might kill myself quite soon.
You’ve threatened to do that a thousand times. You always
think that you will kill yourself. You’re so indecisive. That’s why you’re here as a young hermit.
"You’ll miss me when I’m gone.
I suppose I will.
You’ve paid homage to me, now bugger off!
I’m happy as long as you think good thoughts. Cheerio!
I’m going for a record lock down. I haven’t left the house for thirteen months. Everything and everybody comes to me. They pay homage. I would very reluctantly turn down an invitation to Buckingham Palace to see Her Majesty the Queen. Nothing will lure me from my den except excruciating tooth pain. What do I do all day and night? I think. I read. I search the web. I search for a reason to live but I’ve never come close to one. God is guiding me, I think. I wrote a novel about myself but it was rubbish so I burned it in the back garden. It was a sort of ritual; a self-sacrifice. It was entitled Hikikomori UK. Nobody else read it because I wouldn’t let them. In my considered opinion it was the work of a genius. I