Melancholic Notes

Alone.

A girl sits on a bench in the park. She looks at her white sneakers with black shoelaces, then at her phone. Now at the clouds.

Phone.

Trees.

Phone.

Bike.

Phone.

But no one is answering her texts. She seeks help, but everyone is occupied. She tries calling instead of texting.

A call.

The second call.

The third.

The fourth.

No one is answering, but she needs help. She feels numb. She gets up and to the nearest wi-fi spot. Looking trough social networks. Her friends are online, but no one of them answers to her calls and texts. She writes a new message to someone she knows.

"Hi, do you have a free minute?"

"Sorry, I'm not available for chat now. We can do that in the evening, perhaps?" She is just lazy. She probably is just watching cat videos all day like she always does.

"Okay, cool."

Another message to yet another contact. He is not answering, just reads the message and logs out. Why now? When she does that he gets furious.

She starts to write another message, but she stops and deletes it. She lost the courage to do that.

She walks aimlessly around the town. She walks and walks, and walks, and walks...

She goes up to a river. She feels nothing and everything at once.

Sad.

Alone.

Hurt.

Desperate.

She stares at the water, the seaweed and fishes, and the swirling sand in the current. She is leaning over the edge. People are walking by, not concerned about her. She feels the urge to lean just a little bit further away and fall, but she limits herself.
Not now. Not like this. She has a drop of hope left, she will not do that.

She starts walking again. With no particular reason and goal. She gets to an abandoned house. Trees all around the building, not a single human soul around here. She looks at the three story building that once served as a happy home to a big family, but now has just the floors, half-destroyed walls and staircases. She observes the building and starts her way up to the third floor, slowly taking in the numerous graffiti paintings, most of them just some swearwords and phone numbers, but a couple of them - beautiful masterpieces. She walks up to the flimsy stairs, but she is determined to go up, so she steps on the the first step. It is sturdy enough to not break under her weight, and she walks up step by step. She is on the second floor now, and she continues to walk up slowly, step by step. The stairs look flimsier and flimsier each step she takes, but not a single step is breaking. Soon she reaches the top story, but she notices a ladder up. It leads up to the remains of the attic, the wooden floor is partially decomposed, but nothing can stop her. She feels the need to go up, so she goes. She chooses her way carefully, and now she stands on the edge. She looks around, the view from here is beautiful - trees all around, the houses, the river. The sun is setting, clouds are bright red, orange and yellow and all the colours in between. She stands there for a long time, then she decides to try to call one person for the last time. The childhood friend, always working on something and always too busy, working too much everyday.

"Hi!" The friend finally picked up.

"Hi! Are you busy right now?" The girl asked.

"I need to finish writing this report and I will call back in fifteen minutes." She hung up.

She has a little bit of hope and a peaceful mind. Girl sat down at the edge of the floor that now serves as a roof for the whole construction. She looked at the sky, feeling like she was in trance, when suddenly she heard a loud crack. It came from behind, she looks around and sees nothing. She decides to slowly get up, her knees are shaking with fear. She is slowly going back to the ladder, watching the weak and unsafe parts, but it is hard to do so in the darkness, so she is almost like blindfolded. She hears another crack, it feels like it is almost at her feet. She hears another noise and moments later she is falling down. Her body hits the floor, and it breaks too. Something hits her head and she blacks out.

She wakes up again, because she hears her ringtone. She tries to get her phone, but it is hard to reach because of pieces of wood and other debris that fell on her body. After what feels like hours she gets it and answers the call.

"Hello..." She answers with a weak voice.

She can't hear half of what the voice is saying, but she feels warm, needed and not alone for the first time today.

"Hi! This ......was......just fi......port........you?" She picks up some words, and she feels sore and dizzy. She feels something wet on her hand, it looks like blood, and it is leaking from a big wound on her hand. She looks up and sees metal rods on the walls, that explains the wounds. She feels dizzier and dizzier, and she talks in to the phone.

"You know ............ I wanted to confess........ I always loved you .......... And valued you ........ As a good friend." Thinking and talking take up a lot of energy, especially in this state.

"Wha ................... ean? Is .............................. Answe .............. eed help?"

She feels peaceful and she has enough energy for one sentence.

"Goodbye, my friend." She forces out the words and feels exhausted. Her friends words turned in to mumbling. She only now hears and feels that it is raining and she is soaked in water and blood.

Rain.

Mumble.

Darkness.

Peace.