She was so beautiful. Like a dark angel that fell from the sky and into my life. Her smooth, tan skin was covered in scars. She was a survivor. I remember the day she snapped. The day she realized she finally had enough.
Her voice was soft and joyful as she sat beside him, smiling. Not knowing that was the last conversation she'd ever have with him. He took another shot of whisky and moved closer to her. "Umm.. I should go to bed, its getting late", she said. He sighed and nodded his head. Closing the bedroom door, she undressed and buried herself in the sheets as he passed out on the couch in the next room.
It was 2 a.m. when she woke to the sound of nature. It was pouring rain outside, and lightning struck the sky. Slowly turning the knob, she opened the bedroom door and made her way to the living room, making sure he was okay. "Ryan", she whispered. No response. She shakes him repeatedly. Like a statue, he lies there. She turns the light on. An empty bottle of Adderall and two bottles of whisky surround him. She places her warm fingers on his neck, feeling for a pulse. A pulse that was non existent.
She ran outside, crying and confused. A bus was coming down the highway. She jumped in front of it quickly, ending her misery. She wanted to join him. She couldn't breathe without him. He was her oxygen.
I closed the book. I couldn't believe that someone would tell my story in such a different perspective. I didn't jump in front of the bus.
Someone pushed me.
