She screams.
“SHUT UP!!! SHUT!! UP!!”
The room spins. The phone drops to the floor.
His words echo in her head, over and over again.
He’s lying. She knows what she saw.
I saw you!! I saw what you did!!
The smell of cigarette smoke on her clothes mingles with expensive perfume, and reminds her that she could use a smoke.
She digs into her purse, a vulture clawing at helpless leather.
Where did I put it??
Finally, it yields one, but the quick tug and the slow exhale do nothing to stop the damn spinning.
She craves release, and the cigarette fails to deliver. She throws it off her balcony in disgust, and watches as the dying embers plummet into the darkness of night.
She screams. Again.
But this time she’s not sure who she’s screaming at anymore.
She looks on, at the dancing lights of the city, full of life yet unfocussed and blurry in her eyes; and then, in that moment, there is clarity.
She stumbles into her room – damn tequila – and finds her phone.
Somehow, she types a short text message, and sends it to her friends.
They’re not really my friends!! I don’t HAVE friends!!
She goes back to the balcony, not feeling the cold chill of the night’s breeze.
As an afterthought, she drops her phone on the balcony floor.
The screen fades on the words of her last text message, just as she hooks one leg over the rail. It says “Goodbye”.
She screams. One last time.
“SHUT UP!!! SHUT!! UP!!”
The room spins. The phone drops to the floor.
His words echo in her head, over and over again.
He’s lying. She knows what she saw.
I saw you!! I saw what you did!!
The smell of cigarette smoke on her clothes mingles with expensive perfume, and reminds her that she could use a smoke.
She digs into her purse, a vulture clawing at helpless leather.
Where did I put it??
Finally, it yields one, but the quick tug and the slow exhale do nothing to stop the damn spinning.
She craves release, and the cigarette fails to deliver. She throws it off her balcony in disgust, and watches as the dying embers plummet into the darkness of night.
She screams. Again.
But this time she’s not sure who she’s screaming at anymore.
She looks on, at the dancing lights of the city, full of life yet unfocussed and blurry in her eyes; and then, in that moment, there is clarity.
She stumbles into her room – damn tequila – and finds her phone.
Somehow, she types a short text message, and sends it to her friends.
They’re not really my friends!! I don’t HAVE friends!!
She goes back to the balcony, not feeling the cold chill of the night’s breeze.
As an afterthought, she drops her phone on the balcony floor.
The screen fades on the words of her last text message, just as she hooks one leg over the rail. It says “Goodbye”.
She screams. One last time.
Wind by ~tA-89To be continued..
Based on a true story
6 comments:
er... freaky O_O
to be continued?! She doesn't die, does she? :-)
I like!
You have me nervously biting off fingernails.... what happened next?
Wait. What? ... Based on a true story? O_o
Sexy. Darkly so.
@black - that was the intention :)
@seesaw - interesting reaction.. stay tuned!
@angel - haha im glad i got u interested..
@chathuraw - sadly, yes..
@T - really?? totally didn't expect that..! :D
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