She woke up to see the popcorned ceiling of her mother's apartment. To hear nothing but the honk of car horns and the booming whistle of trains. She doesn't taste the freshly cooked breakfast that everyone else tastes in the morning. She tastes nothing but the medicinal flavor of the pills she had just consumed.
Up, up, up the elevator goes. Tap, tap, tap goes Mrs. Green, the receptionist. Click, click, click goes the computer keys.
She reaches the roof.
With an empty pill bottle in one hand and an envelope in the other, she step, step, steps to the edge. There is no railing. Why would there be?
Her shoes scrape, scrape, scrape against the concrete. The toes of her shoes hang above the end of everything.
And with a smile brighter than ever and a heart lighter than air itself, she takes another step.
Whoosh, whip, scream fills her head as she falls.
But she doesn't make a noise. Someone might hear.
Badum, badum, badum beats her heart.
Some will say that this is the end.
But she is the happiest she has ever been.
By the time she hits the ground, she will still have the envelope clutched tight in her grasp.
YOU ARE READING
the reality of rigley havens
Short Storyjust some sad story about a sad girl i starting writing about in my english class every week
