Until She's Gone

An extremely short story about a woman who walks her path and decides to end it.

There she goes so perfectly, unlike any other I've ever seen. Her skin as pure as milk and no flaw I can ever point out. The way she walks is as if her path is the runway of a model and there she strut so flawlessly. The scarf she wore flowed so elegantly as the wind gracefully blew. She made every piece of clothing worth a million dollars; from the hair piece on her gorgeously textured brunette hair all the way down to her shiny black heels which criss-crossed across her feet.

The landscape behind her was a bit gloomy. The trees were naked bare; no leaves to hang upon and no bark to hug against. The blades of grass were dried up and bristly as if they were needles on a porcupine's back. The flowers all wilted similar to people who would be waiting to die on a hospital bed. The sky was filled with dark and light gray clouds, nothing bright had ever come out. The sidewalk she strutted upon cracked terribly, yet she kept her poise.

And yet again, she walked but this time tenderlessly as she came across a bridge. When her foot set upon the worned out wooden bridge, a creak would sound. Softly and gently, she made her way to the middle of the bridge and stopped as if she was waiting for something to happen.

Her long and well manicured hands grasped the rail of the bridge. And she stood there, waiting for countless of minutes. The phone on her pocket rang, and rang. Yet she did nothing else but to stand there holding the rail of the bridge. She then got a notification on ther phone that someone had texted her. For a few minutes, she stood there like a statue and finally decided to look at it.

The text said, "I'm so sorry baby, please come back. I'll do better next time." As she read, cold and painful bliss of tears had clouded her eyes and fell across her smooth and silky complexion. Her hand, slowly and gracefully, let the phone slide into the river which was constantly flowing rapidly. She lifted her face, letting her long wavy and lucious hair flow with the wind.

One foot at a time, she begin to climb the structures of the bridge until she got to the rail. She stood on the rail holding her arms up as if she wanted the wind to take her away. A few minutes passed and she remained unmoved. Her brain seemed to be filled with woeful memories and thoughts, as she wept them away; with flowing tears that turned into painfully loud sobs. She decided to lean forward, and leaned more, until she went with the river that flowed rapidly.

The river was dyed with red for a couple of minutes, and it was crystal clear again. The scenery has not yet changed with its sorrowful ways. The landscape, as if it knew how the woman had felt, stayed dispirited for her. With the wind still blowing, the grass still dry, the flowers still hanging there deadly, the trees still bare, and the sky still filled with depressing colors; they didn't change one bit, even when she's there or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next week, a news article had appeared with the headlines, "Abused Woman Who Committed Suicide." The article had briefly stated how a woman was tormented by her lover endlessly for years at ends. And how she finally had left him when her first born daughter who was murdered by her lover. Unable to take anything anymore, she went to a bridge and simply fell to her woe. The sad thing about this story is that she came from a perfect family and she was correctly raised by her flawless parents, but she fell into such tragedy after an arranged marriage.

Author's Note

Might have slight grammar problems.

Reviews

[Ghania]

Perfect! Very Well-written. :)
Depression among people now-a-days is a major move towards suicide. But suicide is a consequence. A consequence of what? May be the anguish and pain the girl gets when her daughter died. Or maybe the loathe she felt when it was her Lover who did it. And maybe the hatred she felt for herself to love the man who was the murderer of her own child. Her Flesh. Her part. Or may be she was depressed due to arranged marriage. It's becoming more and more. The cases of suicide. And it's alarming.
A very well-written story! Keep it up. :))