Short Stories

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[Trigger Warning: This story contains suicidal thoughts!]

"It wasn't me."

Everyone tells this lie at least once in their life.

It's easy to say for them. They use it as a simple way out of a situation that can't be reversed anymore. Something so horribly wrong, they have no way of bearing the burden they heaved upon their crippled backs. Wanting to lighten the weight, they see no other way than to dispose of it completely. They search for their next victim, dumping their own personal hell onto the other. Even when they know just how much they will ruin the new cripple's future. Even when they see death whispering temptingly in the new cripple's ear. But far from eye, far from heart. That's what they say, right? It seems there is a certain truth to that phrase. But what happens when there is no one to cripple anymore? When everyone is caught in the sweet bliss of endless rest?

"I didn't do it.", I say as I look down to my feet.

"I swear", I say as I gaze upon my own face, reflected in a puddle of black blood. Red eyes stare back at me accusingly, draining from my limp body what little energy I had left. With newfound power, my reflection sneers at me and reaches for my feet. It crawls further up my leg and leaves a burning scar wherever it touches. The smell of iron forcefully makes it way to my nose, spreading onto my tongue even. I want to move oh so desperately, but I'm unable to do so. I'm bound to watch as it consumes my lifeless body and strikes my mind with fear every passing second. But I can feel a certain calmness radiate from my chest. A heart made of ice conveys a message from another place - a dark one, a safe one. A world with neither regrets, nor bliss. To me, that endless space seems desirable. It's a way for me to leave my burden in this place and never see, nor feel it ever again. Just as I'm about to lose myself in the black abyss, a soft voice resounds.

"It's okay"

Time stops for moment. Just those words were enough for me. Eyes still fixed on my feet, I can see the black goop leaving my body, returning to the puddle of blood it had been before. My reflection no longer mocks me but gazes at me in confusion, mimicking my very own expression. Finally I can move again, and shut my eyes from the horror that haunted me. But before I could let my mind wander to dark places again, I blink. Only to find the floor beneath my feet clean and dry. So much so, that I could even hear the wood creak upon shifting my weight a little. Instead of heavy iron, I now notice a faint scent of old books. After a long while of assembling all of my leftover strength, I slowly shift my gaze upon the scene before me. Again, my body is left motionless as I see a haggard mother gently cradling a lifeless body on her lap. She softly rocks the corpse back and forth, while brushing strands of hair out of their cold face. Hair that I'd known for a long time. Shiny as silk, black as ebony. I always called her snow white. It fits her even more, now that her skin is paler than ever before. Paler than in all these years I had known her.

"It's not your fault.", I hear her mother say and I notice that she stopped moving as well. And even though she is not facing me, I know that her gaze lies upon the rope that hangs from the ceiling. I don't dare to look through the loop it forms, since I fear seeing all the other endings she could have chosen if I had acted differently. Instead I close my eyes again.

"You didn't do it."

Snow whites mother now observes me with reddened, puffy eyes. A gentle tear follows the path down her cheek, which countless others already took. With a quiet 'splosh' the drops moisten the blood-red chain that my dear friend left on her own throat. Unable to look at both of their eyes, I stare at letters scrambled across a white sheet of paper. Slowly my brain comprehends some of the words, making out sentences like 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you'. 'I can't see any other way out'. Her signature.

I can feel my body crashing to the ground. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore. "This wouldn't have happened if I had done something. If I helped her she would still be alive." "I'm a monster." "Why didn't I notice?" Remorse floods my system. My mind is filled with regret and despair. Grief replaces the air I breathe. Misery flows through my veins. I want to scream, cry and beg for forgiveness all at the same time. My body doesn't know how to react to my confusing state of mind and finally completely collapses onto the unforgiving floor. However, before I am able to lose my sanity once and for all, a warm hand rests on top of my back. I can feel it shivering, yet rubbing my back in barely noticeable circles.

"It's not your fault."

I cling onto her words with all I have. I want to believe in her words, make them my religion. But then again, if it wasn't my fault, whose was it?

Who carries the burden if not me?

Who threw it away, never wanting to see it again in a lifetime?

Who killed snow white?

"It wasn't me."