Mature Content
---
'What if I told you I wanted to die? That I'm tired of living of being alive?' she asked Mark. She didn't look at him when she asked, she just continued to cut vegetables up for tonight's dinner.
He just stared at her and shrugged his shoulders. He brought his coffee to his mouth and took a sip, 'Don't talk like that. You know you can't do something like that.' He left his coffee on the table and walked away without another word.
Mark couldn't believe she would say something like that to him, that she would joke about something so serious. He went into his recording room to make a video, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
Mark didn't know that was the worst thing he could do at the time. She looked down at the sharp knife that was now clenched in her white-knuckled fist. She wanted nothing more than to run the blade's edge against her skin, to feel it pinch and blood come into her sight.
She shoved the knife out of her hands and backed away from it. She found herself shaking uncontrollably as she sunk onto the cold tiled floor beneath her. She felt the chill of the kitchen floor seep through her clothes and press against her skin.
She felt it. She didn't want to feel it. She didn't want to feel anything ever again.
-
She brought the subject up again as they sat down to eat. 'What if I said it gets worse at night? The thoughts get louder and nothing is right,' her voice was quiet and small.
Mark snapped his head up look at her. She had her head bowed down to her plate. Mark scoffed with so much disgust it was indescribable.
'The thoughts get louder at night? Are you stupid? Did you wake up with any brain cells this morning? You have it better than most people and you sit here talking about taking your own life. You're ridiculous, you dumb bitch.'
Make shoved his half-empty plate of food anyway from him and stomped his way to their shared bedroom. He stripped himself down to his boxers and crawled into bed. He tossed and turned with anger, he was glad he left the dinner table before he did something he would regret in the morning. He wanted nothing more than to strike her across the face for saying something like that to him.
He wasn't aware of the girl he left broken at the dinner table. The tablecloth beneath her was dotted with her tears. She couldn't stop crying. Mark's words echoed in her head and bounced off the inside of her skull. 'You dumb bitch.'
She sniffled and began to clean up dinner. She dumped her full plate into garbage along with Mark's. She finished as quickly as she could and made her way into the bedroom. She changed into her pajamas.
Mark didn't help her undress like he normally did, he didn't whisper how beautiful she was in her ear. He didn't wrap his arms around her, lift her up into the air and shower her face with small kisses as she tried to pull on her shirt. Instead, he laid on the bed, completely aware she was now in the room with him.
He felt her lift the covers and slide in next to him. He felt her try to cuddle into his back. He made no attempt to turn around to face her. He made no attempt to wrap his arm around her and pull her close. He didn't even say goodnight.
He just moved away from her and fell asleep to the sound of her soft sniffling as she cried next to him.
-
Mark had just barely opened his eyes when he heard, 'What if I lied and said everything was alright?' he heard as she let out a loud sob and he looked over at her, 'No, I'm not crying, I swear I'm alright.'
Mark didn't say a word, he just threw the covers off of him and walked over to their closet. He pulled out a random shirt and slipped it on. He walked straight to his recording room, anxious to get his mind off of her.
She just laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling. She could see all the cracks and dirty spots it held. She let out a heavy sigh and turned over, stealing Mark's pillow. She buried her nose in it, inhaling deeply.
A sudden burst of anger surged through her and she sat up, throwing the pillow at the wall violently. The pillow hit the top of their dresser and knocked down a framed picture of them. Glass shattered everywhere and the glossy picture sat face up. It was one of her favorites. She had a huge smile on her face while Mark looked at her like she was the only thing he ever loved. She knew he didn't love her anymore, but she loved him with all of her heart.
Tears ran down her face, but she didn't wipe the salty trials away. Instead, she stuffed her face into her hands and let out a loud strangled cry.
Mark heard it but only continued to play his game, thinking he just has another thing to edit out later.
-
Mark finally stepped out of his recorded room to find her sitting in the living room watching a T.V. show he knew she didn't like.
He sat down keeping a great deal of space between them. He could just barely her whisper, 'What if I died? I doubt you'd even cry. Would you even care if I took my own life?'
Mark was beyond fed up with her talk. 'You know what? No! No, I wouldn't care! I wouldn't shed a single tear!'
Mark launched himself up off the couch and stormed out of the house. Mark had let his mind lead him rather than his heart. He would never know how much he would regret leaving her alone.
-
Mark returned home a couple hours later, calling out her name. When she didn't answer, he expected her to be in bed sleeping. He walked into their bedroom and flicked on the light. She wasn't there.
Mark checked the living room, kitchen, the guest room. He even checked the basement. She wasn't anywhere.
Mark could feel his heartbeat pick up with worry. There was only one place left he could check. He wrapped his hand around the cold metal handle on the bathroom door and tried to turn it. It was locked.
Mark pounded the door with his fist and pleaded with her to unlock it. When he got no response, he started to throw his shoulder into the door.
The piece of wood splintered and he almost fell to the ground. The sight before him made him scream with horror.
Multiple pill bottles were opened, pills scattered the ground. She laid in the tub with her eyes closed, completely surrounded by red water. Mark ran up to her and shook her shoulders, begging her to wake up. Tears streamed down his face and he fumbled for his phone.
He called 911 and begged them for help. They couldn't get here fast enough, he knew this, she was already gone.
Mark dragged her out of the tub and pulled her soaked body to his chest. He rocked back and forth, begging her to wake up, to come back to him. He brushed her wet hair out of her face, tucking it against her ear. He leaned down to kiss her cold lips, expecting her to wake up and kiss him back. She didn't, life isn't like the movies.
She didn't move, she didn't breathe.
God, why did Mark have to leave? Why didn't he talk to her about this? He could have done something.
There was something clutched in her hand, the corner of it peaked out. Mark quickly wiped his tears away with the heel of his hand before he tried to take the note from her. Her hand was closed tight and Mark started to cry even harder when he had to pry her fingers apart, opening her hand for him.
The small piece of paper was soaked around the edges and slightly red from the love of his life's blood. Mark had to let go of her briefly to open the paper. He heart broke once more as he read the word spelled out in her beautiful handwriting, 'You said you wouldn't cry, that you wouldn't shed a single tear.'
Mark flipped over the paper and gasped in horror from what it said, 'You dumb bitch.'
Mark crumpled up the paper and threw it as far away from him as he could. It bounced off the wall in front of him and landed in the full bathtub. He continued to rock and sob into her cold body. He looked up to scan the scene before him and saw something he didn't before.
On the mirror was a message written in her red lipstick, 'I'm sorry.'
