Broken and Lost

Chapter 5

Trigger Warning

I'll be honest, I'm not quite sure what happens next. 

The moment I stepped out of the parlor I could feel the fear and cold inside take hold and then: nothing. I'm not sure how much time has passed. I'm not sure of most of my actions in the allotted time. I'm not sure how, exactly, I came to my current position. What I know, however, from nothing more than instinct is why I was led here.

I look at the Thames as it flows below the Blackfriars Bridge. The water is pitch black and murky from all of the garbage and pollution thrown into it. The nothingness of it seems to intrigue me, almost beckoning me forward. The curiosity of what lies beneath, what I might feel if I were to make the decision looms in my brain as my vision begins to blur, gradually at first until all at once I can see next to nothing.

At first I think I'm blacking out again. It doesn't register with me that it's my own tears blurring my vision until I can taste the salt in my mouth. At that moment I look down at myself, taking myself in. Strands of my hair fall around my face after falling from the pins. The once controlled curls are now in frizzed ringlets in front of my eyes. My cheeks are painfully damp and I can only imagine the damage that has been done to the intricate work of art that was my makeup. Hell, I can only image the mess I look entirely: a short girl with messy red hair absolutely bawling in a $7,000 dollar gown, her knuckles a dangerous shade of white as she grips the railing of the bridge. 

What would Mother say if she could see me now?

I hang my head as I cry, unable to stop. The cold in my chest has only spread and gotten stronger. It is nothing and it is everything at the same time. It is the bane of my existence and the ultimate cause of my downfall. It has the perfect explanation and yet no good reason to be there at all. I can feel it all. I feel nothing but pain and dread and yet I don't feel anything--how can that be possible that a person feels everything and nothing at the same time?

My head--oh, my head. I can feel each thought coursing through my neural pathways at a speed so intense I can't pinpoint a single one. Bits and pieces are made clear in my mind and, with them, comes a feeling. The feeling is strong, overpowering, and it makes my head hurt. I cradle my head with one hand and then the other, willing the indescribable feeling to go away while the urge to make it go away by bashing my head against the cement railing intensifies.

That's the only way I can describe this current situation: indescribable.

There are no words to ever truly describe how it feels. The icy hands at the back of my neck and inside my chest, squeezing just enough to make my lungs feel as if they're burning from lack of oxygen and my heart feel like a dead weight inside me; but, perhaps, it has been dead for a while and I'm only just catching up. The immobility to move out of fear of what comes after that first movement. The inability to speak as my tongue feels as if it's been cut from my mouth, dooming me to go through this utterly alone. The undeniable uncertainty of whether or not this is real because what God or Angel would ever allow a feeling this terrible to exist?

I know why I came here--what other reason is there? What other reason did I have for fighting to get out of that prison? What other reason was there for the greatest show of my life--the dresses, the makeup, the hair, the painfully forced smiles. Why else was I made to exist other than to eventually die.

I know I have to move but there's a part of me that's afraid. It's an illogical part of me--the part that's scared to die. Dying is natural--inevitable, even. Being afraid to die is essentially the same as being afraid to breathe. Yet, still, I find myself frozen and scared of what comes next. Is there Heaven and Hell or is there nothing? Or, perhaps, I'll be doomed to walk the earth for the rest of eternity. Maybe I'll get the release I so desperately desire and maybe I'll get none at all.