Escape

I want to sleep through the pain. That's what she said before it all happened. Yes, that's how it all began, uttering silence in the night as she screams and holds her breathe, hoping it will all pass by. Good was not how she saw it, she laid on her back, the rain scratching her window as everything went foggy. Even she couldn't anticipate the virus that was slowing destroying her... She paused and waited for everything to disappear, but It all just seems more real than surreal. Her arms fold as her rips crack and lock in position, ready to begin a long sleep through the night. She stretched her hands towards the moon that was so small in the distance, but It's glow radius out shined her. "Won't u reply dear?", her mind speaks,

"say something",even her thoughts want to know what she is thinking, as they chuckle  .

She gets up and sits on her bed, a sound of a suicide soliloquy waved through her empty room.

"Stab my heart with the dagger of regret, for my life has been a regret. Living is not worth the potter's clay that moulds me into being, push me harshly, like the hurricanes of the tropical seas. Push me over the edge, over hedge that lies beyond my jump. Let me free fall in maximum gravity, the pain will be quick and death will come irrationally".

Up she gets rapidly, its all anger caged in anguish, what an empty room, what to hit ? What to throw ? Just words, nothing to work against, not even a pin that will dig into her arteries so she could bleed to death.

"Oh my only friend, have you also left me in this unthinkable world. Take me home", she cries, bleeding lurid agony.

On the floor she finally spreads herself with the thick ink that permanently stains her red carpet, with it she writes a note on the wall. It's not clear, as each letter became weak and weak and weak, from English to Latin, It's a postcard signed by herself, not a name but a fingerprint of her DNA. In the morning, her body was not there. Men and women in white jacket looked for her, but all there is, is a broken window and the note she left behind.

Author's Note

Short Story

Reviews

[Siren]

I love this. Often, I feel the pain. The pull. The lure of death. If I weren't a coward, I might actually go through with it sometime. But alas, I am alive. "Nothing to throw, nothing to work against. Just words." That's about all I have, as well. Wonderful write, friend. Absolutely wonderful.

[R.G. Bennet]

Very good descriptive and metaphoric skill. I'd work on a few spelling and grammar issues if I were you, though.

"She gets up and sits on her bed, a sound of a suicide soliloquy waved through her empty room." -- my favourite line.

Quite dramatic, and filled with desperate emotion. Nice job.