Double Vexation ( A Harper's series. book 11)

Better Off Dead

Just a warning.... This chapter is going to make jaws drop. Tissues might be a good idea! Another split chapter!

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Miri

I asked them to remove the mirrors but do they listen to anything I want? I hate seeing myself, it's only a reminder of what I use to be. No one wants to look at me anymore and I couldn't blame them. In day's past when I entered a room all eye's riveted to me. I stood proud and talk knowing that I was a Harper and my Pape the king. No one dared crossed me. Other girl's wanted to be me and wished they could have my olive. No, I'm not conceited, I treated everyone with an equal amount of respect but I also knew how most felt about me so I'm just being honest.

Now look at me. I'm just a waft of a woman living inside of a hollow shell. I hate being so dependent upon other's when I'm accustomed to taking care of myself. I hate how they look at me and try to hide the sorrow in their eye's. Knowing that they pity me only pisses me off more. I hate how they all coddle me and treat me as if I'm some frail, breakable object. Many time's I send them scurrying from my room in a slew of cuss word's, screams and hurling object's. Yes, I know their concerned and only want to help but their help is even more damaging.

Then there is my olive, my lifelong lover. Not only does my new situation tear at me but my soul is tortured. Where is he and why haven't they found him yet? If I was able I'd have him located in no time and this infuriates me. I'm of no help to anyone anymore at least of all my husband. Yes, I say husband even if our wedding was never completed because in my heart I've always been married to Cole. We was born for each other there's no doubt in my mind.

Slowly I make my way to the last mirror that remains in this room. It hangs above the dresser and seems to always be laughing at me, reminding of all I use to be and what I'll never be again. I stare at my gaunt, pale reflection and think of Cole. Are they giving him his meds? I sure hope so. It's horrible enough knowing that he's locked away but knowing that he could be getting devoured by his voices is agony. Then again maybe it's best this way, he'd never want to look at me again, no one does let alone myself which brings me back to the mirror.

Staring deep into my eye's that use to reflect love and laughter now only showed pain and depression. They were dull and lifeless. Cole will detest me and find me grotesque. He'll never love me again and think of me as a burden which I am to everyone. No one wants to sit around and babysit a cripple. No one wants to make love to a cripple. Why couldn't I have just died? Why want they allow me to just kill myself? Death is surely better than living like this.

But they won't allow it. My mother has removed anything and everything from my room that could be a threat. They take turns checking up on me or sitting by my side. But I'll show them. I will end this reduced life or die trying.

Looking down at my once vibrant and strong legs I cried. Cole always worshipped my long legs. He teased often that my legs was why he married me. It drove him crazy when I wore a short skirt or wrapped them around him when making love. Now as I look down at my lap all I see is weak, useless, ugly limbs. I can't move them, I can't walk, run or even dance anymore. I spend my day either in bed or sitting in this damned wheelchair. If I need to use the bathroom, get up or take a bath I need assistance. This is no way to live. The doctor says that the bullet did major nerve damage to my spine which rendered my lower amenities paralyzed. Basically he claims I'll never walk again yet force's me through therapy every day.

Looking back to the mirror, I let out an anguished wail and smashed my fist into. Glass fragments scattered about and I knew that I had to be quick least someone hear me and interfere with my newest attempt. Grabbing up a jagged piece of glass, I brought it to my throat ignoring the cut it was placing on my palm. Watching the years spill from my eye's, I pressed the sharp piece to my skin. "Fucking do it you pussy". I berated myself.