|
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Little red droplets splattered and stained the floor below the tub. To her ears, it was a satisfying sound-almost as good as the actual pain she had experienced only minutes before... Her wrists were still searing from the slash marks. Red fluids jelled even as they continued to fall.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
What had done it this time? She had used old scars to create a new chaotic pattern on her smooth ivory flesh. Cheeks once rosy as budding apples were now pale and gaunt across her bone structure. Hazel eyes, not yet lifeless, flickered underneath closed eyelids. Where was the white light she so desparately needed?
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Had it been her pill-popping mother? Screaming profanities at her daughter had become a verbal art for the older woman. It was as if she took some sick pleasure in making her offspring suffer for her sins. Or was it perhaps her boyfriend? Calling her to say that he couldn't make it to their movie date? Could she even call him that-he only came around for sex and money. When was the last time they did anything "real"?
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Her breathing was slow and labored now; a great weight sat upon her chest expelling any air in her lungs. Grimacing, she wished that she had sliced open a more important artery. This death was slower than the one she had imagined for herself. Images of a once happy childhood embedded in her mind as she waited for her reaper to take her... A time before all she knew was pain.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
At first, it had been an accident. Really, it had been-she had been making a salad to surprise her mother when the knife went deep into her thumb. How old had she been? Blood gushed all over the vegetables and the table ruining everything. Except that there was no pain or fear seeping from her pores. Just a warmth sense that flushed over her body and caused a wet spot between her legs.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Later on she learned that the sensation was so much better when it had emotion behind it. She would take her anger at her mother or at that slacker who got her knocked up and use it to fuel her own explosive release. Over and over, she would cry out for herself when no one was home. More than once, she was wet between the legs and panting for more. Eventually, it was better than sex.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Patterns emerged in her behavior. Finally, she grew bold enough to cut herself where others could see. Many admired her spunk and gumption; it was as if her body had become a twisted canvas for others to view. By then, the mother she remembered was gone. Teachers at school stopped caring what she did and friends drifted away from her. Everyone had given up all hope on her, so she had given up on herself.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Ah yes. Hope. That had been the straw upon the camel's back. She had gone down to the park to watch her daughter be happy in another woman's arms. While she was barely past childhood herself, it had been so hard to give up her little girl even though Hope would have a better life. It was good that they would never meet. Hope would never have the chance to be disappointed in her birth mother.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The bloody bath water had grown colder over the past hour or so as her heart rate dropped to just a handful of beats. Her flesh was cool and clammy. Most of her submerged flesh was wrinkly from soaking for so long; hair once a beautiful shade of mahogany brown hung limp off her shoulders. So far, everything was going just as she expected... Now where was the damn white light?
Drip. Drip.
Was her body finally running out of its life substance? The plinking sound was much slower and sounded much more faint to her ears. The bathroom door rattled but she had locked it. Her mother yelled at her to open the door and let her in-going on for a few minutes, the woman finally gave up and sounded like she went upstairs to the second bathroom. How long would she be in death before anyone noticed that she was gone? Coughing, she realized that her life was almost nil.
Drip. Drip.
Slowly her body began to relax as she fell into a deep lull. She was ready for this-ready to never have to wake up or see another sunrise. Ready to never feel pain or be hurt again. Her head rolled to one side and touched the cool and still waters. Ber body was white with near death-the water a gentle pink.
Drip. Drip.
Now there was a desparate banging on the doors. Someone was screaming her name in fear and anger. At last, the white light had come for her. She was desparate for it to take her away from this flesh bound world. Opening her eyes, she tried to touch her fingers to her lips but all she could do was form a slim smile. A look of peace crossed her face and comfort warmed her one last time from head to toe. Time had slowed down all events. Her thoughts turned to Hope as one final breath escaped into the world. The light enveloped her spirit as she left the physical world. Her feet sank to the bottom of the tub.
Drip.
The door burst open as a young man and an older woman made their way into the bathroom. Her mother took in the sight of a blood covered floor and a dead body in front of her. Screaming in shock and horror, she collapsed back against the wall and clutched her chest. Her baby was gone. The young man practically leapt to his beloved's side; touching his fingers to her cold throat, he knew that it was already too late to save her. Turning his head to be sick, a piece of paper fell from his free hand. It was too much for either invader to bear.
Drip.
The blood and water made the ink run on the official looking document. It was a job offer from a big firm. He had been working hard and was going to surprise her with it. It would have been a chance to move away and into a new home-a new life. Now, there was nothing left... It was all over for both of them. The old woman could not stop babbling her daughter's name as she explained over and over again that she was finally checking into rehab. All the young man could say was...
"Oh hell..."
THE END
 Naree · Sat Jul 08, 2006 @ 06:58am · 3 Comments |
