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Done.

Cyranny

Goodbye.

She wasn’t too sure about the “good” side of it, but just “bye” didn’t seem right.

Looking at her phone’s screen, one last time, just in case, she grinned. What did she expect, really? A last minute savior’s message, asking her to meet at the cute coffee shop down the street? She knew well there would be no such luck.

She paused to consider leaving an explanation. What for? Who for?… She dropped the pen and picked up the bottle. The pure absinthe filled her shooter glass once, and then twice. And once more, and more and more….

She ignored the still freshly inked reminder on her wrist.

Live it said.

for what? For who? Certainly not for herself.

She poured herself another shot.

Cheers to fuckin’ me!

A smirk curled up her lips as she thought how he would disapprove. Disapprove her drinking, disapprove her foul language, disapprove her plan. Her escape. But he wasn’t there, was he?

She poured herself another shot and downed it.

She felt dizzy, but not numb yet. She wished she did. Numb was good, in this world made of pain, and she filled her shooter glass once more, only to empty it in a flash.

Her eyes turned to the sleeping pills’ bottle. The label seemed to spell “escape”. Her slim fingers worked the childproof lid, just making it that much easier to take the final step…

Final.

No more going to work because there are bills to pay. No more smiling because they expect her to. No more being sorry for being the failure she was. The silent wreck she had always been.

No more.

She filled her glass once more.

Her mind drifted to Tuscany. How could she die without seeing it, once?

Her eyes teared up. She had no choice, but to keep striving. And for now to go to bed and rest…

She put the lid back on. For today.

One more day.

 

 

Via today’s Word of the Day Challenge: Striving

 

25 thoughts on “Done.”

      2. Thank you for your concern, Jane 🙂 It was only fiction, though I’ve been there, a while ago. I appreciate the thought! 🙂 I guess we’re both proof that you are right! xx

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      2. I also vent through writing. I sometimes put feelings of my own in the hands of characters, and let them express it all. A great and cheap way to get some sort of therapy 😛

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  6. great post Cyranny, you’ve obviously written from experience and it’s touched others too … living is best, thriving better still … make a lifestyle change that includes more passion or opt out eg tiny off grid house like me, there are choices 🙂

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    1. Thank you, Kate 🙂 I have flirted with this kind of ideas in the past… A very dark moment, and unlike some others, I don’t want to forget. If just to keep in mind that I never want to go “there” anymore. 🙂 The tiny house idea is interesting, and I think it is something we’d consider, if/when we move out of the big city 🙂

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    1. Ohh, I’m sorry if it gave that impression…Now that I re-read it, it can have a double sense… I didn’t mean that she put back the lid on as in keeping her emotions to herself. I meant that she put the lid back on that pill bottle, which was a more positive end to the story!

      And the song came back to mind when I wrote the line… Sorry if I sent the wrong message by mistake! I agree that no one should keep dark thoughts and feelings to themselves… Thank you for your concern! xx

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      1. no got it totally in your writing, she put the lid on the bottle and didn’t take the pills but the song was only about ‘put the lid on it’ which did sound like bottling emotions and that raised my concern … 🙂

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