She Falls Asleep

Another piece of death; and how beautifully tragic it can be.

She Falls asleep


The sun rose, but she did not. She saw no point in it anymore. Her life wasn't interesting in the least.

She used to have a job, but quit when all the jokes got back to her. Apparently, they only kept her around for comic relief. She used to have friends, but they turned on her so they could be in the "in-group". Turns out they weren't, really, ever friends after all. She also had a boyfriend, but that was just because he lost a bet. He broke-up with her after the week was up.

But anyway, today she chose not to get out of bed. She knew that if she had, it wouldn't be pretty. So instead, she let her mind wander on all topics possible. Why people pray, when you never truly get a response. It's like you're talking to a wall. She felt bad for thinking this, so she attempted to pray. Then she just felt silly.

She started thinking about her old job, friends, "boyfriend".... even her family. She wondered what they were doing. Did they miss her? Think about her? Even remember her? She doubted that they did.

When she was a child, they hardly paid attention to her, or her life. It made her sad, and she began to cry. She felt idiotic for this. Why should she waste her time thinking of them? She tried to forget then, but ended up pulling out old photo albums.

She glanced over family pictures from the vacation to Venice. She was hidden in the background, separated from the group. A strange man was chatting with her. This brought back terrible memories. She remembered the man well. He was tall, dark, and spoke in an odd accent. He was unshaven, and wore ragged clothes. He convinced her to come along with him for a while. She dared not reminisce on the things they did.

She was thirteen and should have known better than to talk to strangers. She found her family at a near by store an hour later. They hadn't even noticed she was gone. She didn't tell anyone what had happened. Not ever.

This gave her chills, so she put the album away. Her face was now stained with tears. She went into her bathroom to get IB Profin. All of had given her a headache. She took four when she should have only taken one.

She crawled back in bed, a little dazed and continued thinking. She began to get angry, clutching her fists. She wanted to scream, shout, tell the world her story. She grabbed the phone and dialed. She called the first number in mind. Someone answered, but she didn't care to ask who. She just began to scream, rant. She told the story of her life. Beginning to end. The person on the other end listened quietly. Either that or they hung-up. She couldn't tell.

The medicine was making her unaware of the things around her. She slammed the phone down, wanting more, wanting less. She wanted it all to end. She went back to the photo albums and tore them apart, throwing pages all over the house. She knocked pictures off the wall, and broke every dish she owned.

Unsatisfied, she went back to the bathroom. Her migraine had tippled and she could hardly stand it. She took seven more IB Profin and a pill from a bottle she cared not to read. She lied back on her bed, trying to fall asleep. And she did. She fell asleep, thinking of her life and all the hell she went through. She fell asleep... never to wake again.

Author's Note

I wrote this about a year ago and decided to post it to get some critique. I'd like to know your thoughts in case I go back and edit this piece.