She looked down to the ground, contemplating and enjoying the view the 50 story building gave her of the people down below. They looked like ants. She walked back and forth, back and forth along the ledge. She sat down atop it and thought.
She thought of when her best friend of 5 years, the one guy she could always turn to, raped her and left her alone in an abandoned shed with blood stained thighs and mascara riddled cheeks.
She thought of when her father took out his drunken anger on her mother, watching as he beat her ragged, then turned on her and gave her a few swings as well.
She thought of when her first true love told her she was fat and it was hard to look at her sometimes because her face reminded him of one that’s been smooshed up against glass.
She thought of the first time she purged, and how beautiful she felt, (She remembered how beautiful she felt when she starved herself for three weeks.)
She thought of when her brother slashed her with a knife, screaming that she deserved to die, that she was the reason dad drank. (she bled a lot but she enjoyed the feeling.)
She thought of when she first tried to commit suicide.
She felt the peace of that moment wash over her for a few moments. She looked down again.
She thought of how her second true love beat her, not only with words, but with his fists as well.
She thought of when her mother killed herself, how she found her on the bathroom floor, empty bottle of pills and a smile on her face.
She thought of when her dad beat her senseless for not trying to help.
She stood up again as the last thought rang in her head.
He body emaciated, she almost blew away in the breeze.
She thought of her third and last true love. He meant the world to her, even now in these last few moments.He’d looked passed everything and loved her. Or, she thought he did. She saw on his phone suspicious texts and numerous girls numbers. Then she caught him in bed with another woman. When she cried, he accused her and he slapped her, hard. She’d stopped crying. He hit her, again and again, her skin being bruised and battered. She’d cut herself deep that night.Her beat her again the next night. Raped her more than once over the course of 5 days.
And now? Here she was. She looked over the edge and she knew it was time. She couldn’t wait any longer. She felt giddy and happy. She stepped one foot out, ready to plummet, to leave it all behind, to join her mom.
And then she was free falling, going down fast.
At 25 stories, her heart stopped.
She smacked the ground hard and loud.
Her neck twisted, her arm bent at an awkward angle, a smile on her bloodied face.
A.E.M
