Fall River is an incredibly interesting town. There is so much culture and history there, but in the same breath, it has become sort of ghetto. A refuge for those who are poor (which is EXACTLY why I lived there) and destitute, yet don’t want to live in the LITERAL hood. Fall River is where you go if you don’t want to go “full hood”, yet you want to pay hood prices. The last town where you can still find hundred-dollar ounces. And though Fall River is never shy on weird people and awesome stories, this tale is decidedly darker than my typical Fall River tales. This is one of those stories you hear someone bring up as if it is in urban legend, and you kindly let them know it did indeed happen, and you were in direct proximity to it. While the main twist in the story is already revealed in the article title, it is how this guy did it that will truly floor you.
So I get a phone call from one of my friends who tells me I need to come to his house right away. He sounds all worked up and gives me few details, but being a good friend, I just heard the urgency in his voice and jumped in my car to see what was up. I got to the bottom of his street and saw cops and ambulances, with the bottom of the street roped off. I freaked out and called him back, fearing the worst. He answered and reassured me he was fine, and I just needed to see what was going on. He told me to circle around and drive into his street from the top, which was still open. He told me I would see what he was talking about in a second, he hung up. Little did I know what awaited me on Prospect street that day.
It took a few minutes, but I circled around and pulled down his street from the top, and the minute I did, I saw it. Well, not really, but kind of.
I saw what looked like two bodies, covered by sheets. Thing is, one was full-sized and one was very small. I got queasy thinking I was looking at a dead baby, so I just turned my head and drove to his house. When he saw my car, he ran out to his yard to meet me. ” The fuck, dude? Is that a dead baby?!” He laughed at me, and started telling me what happened, in the most matter-of-fact way as possible, which made it even more disturbing to me.
The story is a relatively simple one. Guy is upset he is getting evicted. Guy reacts emotionally and ties some nylon rope around his neck while sitting in the front seat of his car. He then steps outside of the car for a second and affixes the other end of the rope securely to a telephone pole. Man then gets back into car, revs tires for a minute, and peels off with enough force to tear his head clean from his body.
Head is discovered on street next to car by his neighbors.
Wow, I guess the story isn’t simple at all, is it? Being someone who is legally insane, I can understand sadness, and why people may want to run from that sometimes. I am also the residual victim of suicide, having been unfortunately surrounded by people who it has claimed, so I get the sadness thing, I really do. And I get the desperation of how dark life may get in those final moments. Yet, in the same breath, can you imagine being in so much mental anguish you would rather tear off your own head then live? Honestly, my mind cannot grasp the place that must come from, and I am grateful it can’t. Knowing how someone like that thinks is a place most don’t come back from. There is no punch line, nor was this an elaborate setup for a tasteless joke. No, this is life, and it is happening every day, all around you. Okay, so maybe this next pic is a little tasteless to include, my Father Michael used to tell me to “laugh through the tears”, so that is what I do. Get it, a priest raped me? Okay, sorry, getting distracted.
Fall River: Yes, it’s kinda like that, only with smaller boss fights.
So, in essence, the two sheets I were seeing on the street were one for the body, and one for the head, both about fifteen feet apart from each other. Dude ripped off his own head. What can you even say about that? I looked over at my boy, and asked him why he rushed me over to see this, when all it will do is give me nightmares. “I like fake horror, not the real stuff” I whimpered. He laughed and replied:
” Atleast if I tell you I know it will make a good story one day.”
Well played, dude. Well played.
The post Fall River Follies: The Guy Who Tore His Own Head Off Ten Minutes From My Old Apartment: A True Story appeared first on Remy Carreiro.
