Yes, this ish the product of my misery.
No, I won't do something stupid like taking care of his (my ex's) mom... because she's dead~
Yes, I drank alcohol every night, after he dumped me.
Now please enjoy... GOODBYE.
I stumbled out of the chipped pale blue front door. My frigid, shivering hands grasped my broken locket. I could feel each tiny broken shard scraping into my fragile skin. I held it tighter it was mine and I would never let him take it from me. I can just see his cold enraged eyes glared at me full of hate and jealousy.1
My normally long luscious thick brown hair clung to my tear stained face, off putting my sight. I tripped. Fell to the floor. My sorrowful body hit the cold black stony pavement with a loud sharp thud. I wrapped my arm around my chest and pulled my knees up to my chin.2
Suddenly more tears gushed uncontrollably from my small swollen eyes; they slid down the right side of my face hitting the hard concrete floor I lay upon it. All I could think of was “why am I still here”. I glanced across the damp floor, I could smell the damp stretch rising, filling my nose, it made me feel so alone nobody else there, no other scent; no warmth, only the cold pavement was there to keep me company. I had to move. My thoughts where racing though my mind. “Why does he still hate me? Why can he not love me? Why does everything I do go wrong when all I want is to be loved?” I felt a drop of ice cold water drip onto my face; I really was cold and alone.3
I heard shouting from inside the warm, happy place I once called home; but now it was not home; no it was a dark place full of evil.I hurried to my feet keeping tight grip of my locket. I ran and ran, gasping for breath; I looked to around to see where I was. My eyes darted around the darkness. I had to look hard; I could see the broken stone stairs, they where a sickly pale green colour, but where the stone had chipped away they where a bright white. I scrapped my hand along them remembering the happy times I had spent there. He had first kissed me there, I remember holding onto the red bar above my head and gripping tightly as my heart raced. My eyes filled with tears, what I wouldn’t give for that to be us now, but his love had turned to hate and jealousy.4
I glanced up at the building that towered over me. I felt so small like an ant next to a monster truck, I was scared. His mum lived in this building, she was so cold. I had spent days on end helping her carry shopping up to her top floor room, tidied her room, scrapped the graffiti off her front door and then repainted it. She still hated me. I looked at the coded door; I could remember the code surely. I placed my fingers on the cold silver buttons. Closing my eyes I stroked the keys I could feel the shaped of the numbers. I slid my finger over a straight line then followed it round, there was a sharp corner, and then another I suddenly realised it was the 4 key. That was the first number of the code. Before I knew what I was doing I had typed the four digit code in and I found myself running up the stairs. My hand was grasping the red handle bar; it matched the one that was outside only this one was less worn. It looked like it had been freshly painted. One foot flew in front of the other, again and again, right, left, right, left. I was at the top. I saw the crimson door. A burning orange handle stared at me; it knew what I had to do. I pushed the handle down and push hard against the smooth door, it was warm and welcoming. It creaked open. I smiled. I was in. I felt the cold breeze on my face, running through my fingers; it clung to me like an old friend. It sent was welcoming like a cool summer’s day, even though it was winter right now. I knew I should be smelling the burning oil fumes from below and the stench of the tire factory only across the road. But tonight was going to be perfect.5
I thought back to being little. Holding on to the rails of the same stairs I had just walked up. I could barely reach the handle then. I had the first kiss off the love of my life here. I had looked after his mother to for so many years, in this same building. I could feel tears rushing down my face at these thoughts. Why did he do it to me? I know I had done a bad thing. I mean I shouldn’t have. It made sense at the time. He didn’t have to say I looked ugly that night. I only ever wanted his approval. I had worn a short black dress, with a bright neon green patch at the top, with bright neon green leg warmers to match. I had black tights on too, with thick black eyeliner. I had tied my hair back into two small bunches, as I had previously cut all my hair to a very short length. My fringe covered one eye and my nails were black. All day I had been worried what he would think of my clothes. I sat there chewing my nails till they started to chip away. I remember walking up to him, he gave me that look when he thinks what I’m wearing is really nice, but his mouth said a different thing, it was cold and harsh, I wanted to run away and change but I couldn’t. I was hoping he would come out with me that night; to keep me company, but he didn’t. I spent the day with him. He seemed distant and sat on the other seat across the room from me. I felt so alone and afraid in his house. I only wanted a cuddle. I sat and watch the television as he had his hair cut. He appeared in the room again and I thought his hair looked odd, but I smiled and pretended it looked fine while he worried about it. His friend came round and he cuddled me on the sofa while his friend sat opposite us. That was nice. I felt loved for the first time that day. He was warm and smelt like he always did, it was comforting. I knew I loved him. He slipped his hand into mine and I held it tight. We soon moved on to his friend’s house and that’s where I got picked up from for the dreaded night out. I was such an evil person. Why had I ruined all I had for one kiss? That was all. A kiss on the lips and I had thrown it away. Everything. Alone. Gone. I had nothing left to live for. I loved him and had kissed another. His best friend would make sure I’d never have him back. It was time to let go.6
I clung to the cold sharp railings in front of me. It felt like they were piercing my skin. It was not perfect any more. My thoughts of my mistakes had ruined everything. They ruined my life, my love and now my finial moments had been destroyed. I stepped over the bar. It was smooth between my legs as I pulled my left leg over first then my right dragged behind. I placed my hands on the bar again, but this time I was in front of it. A cold drop fell upon my nose. I looked up. The sky was crying just like me. This was it. I kicked off my shoes, the orange laces hung down so it was only a little push to make my white trainers fall to the floor. I watched as they fell and fell and fell. Bang! They hit the floor. It had only taken a matter of seconds for them to reach. It was me next. I could feel the cold cobles on my toes. I brushed my front toe over each lump; they where rough and cold like ice cubes on my feet. I lent forward my hands let go of the rails. I fell.7
I had never felt so alive, yet I was heading towards my death. Wind rushed through my thick brown hair and hugged my body so tightly. I could feel the adrenaline running through from the top of my head, down my back, into each arm right to the tips of my fingers, down my legs, I could even feel my littlest toe. I could do anything, be anything, I was alive. It dawned on me I was going to hit the ground below me and this perfect moment would be over I closed my eyes and thought of him.
+ FIN +
