Short Stories

CHOOSE HOW YOU WILL DIE: SUICIDE

The wind blows her hair away from her face and dries the tears that have fallen down her face. She grimaces slightly at the gross stickiness the dried tears leave behind.
She wobbles slightly as she stands on the thick tree branch with a wide and sting rope in one hand. She slowly squats and sits near the root of the branch, the rough bark scratching her back as she leans against the tree trunk. Her hands shake as she ties one end of the rope tightly around the branch and her whole body jerks as she pulls on the rope to make sure that her knot is sound.

On the free end of the rope is a noose, and she reaches out to grab the loop and slip it over her head. It's a difficult task, her hands and arms are shaking so violently that she has to take a moment to breath. She begins to sob so fiercely that the entire branch shakes with her. Her thighs are squeezed tightly around the branch to keep her from falling that she's sure that there'll be bruises.

She does manage to get the noose over her head and onto her neck. Once the noose lies limp around her neck she stands up, she takes a moment to catch her balance and to allow her feet to curl around the branch to steady her. A cold wind cuts through her thin nightgown and she wishes that she'd had the foresight to wear a robe. Next time, she thinks and mentally laughs sardonically. There won't be a next time. On the count of three, she thinks and forces her whole body to relax.

One, she smiles slightly remembering the happier days: playing in the garden with her older brother, reading books with her mother and the laughter that used to fill the manse.

Two, her fingertips lightly trace her blue kips as the memory of her lover's lips fill her mind and warm her body. She never wanted to leave Julia behind, but things had become too much for her to handle. She remembers the feeling of completion that she used to feel when she would lie with Julia, completely bare and vulnerable.

Three, she pushes those happy memories aside and makes herself think about why she's here today. She thinks about why she's here standing on the branch, the highest branch of the tree; she came here today to die.

The night air rushes into her lungs, chilling them as she sucks it in like it's a drug. She lifts one foot and steps off the branch. Her nightdress balloons about her as she falls, it's almost serene. Then the rope reaches its limit and jerks her falling body upwards with a sickening crack. Her body writhes and convulses as the noose tightens around her neck, it's like watching a fish out of water. Her body stills at last with a final convulsion, the wind answers and her body moves with the wind-back and forth. In a very morbid way the sight is beautiful, she is peaceful. Her skin flashes white in the rising moonlight and her face is free from her worries. Her hair falls down in front of her face and for a moment she looks demonic, then the moment is over and her soul rises out of her body and is free from the endless torture of humanity. She is free.