There is nothing left, she thinks as she slides into the tub. The warm water caresses her skin, softly, gently – tiny waves flowing over her as his fingers never would again. Her brown eyes cloud, blurring the shapes…colors…life they had built together. Tears run down her face, over the curve of her breast, and disappear into clear waters-almost as though they had never existed.
In the silence of the bathroom, the emptiness of her soul echoes loudly. She imagines trailing the gleaming edge of a razor over the delicate skin of her wrist, her blood staining the porcelain in ruby rings, and slowly sliding from depression, to euphoria, and then…peace.
She revels in the idea of an end to pain that 15 aspirin, 2 joints, and a bottle of vodka could not assuage. She craves an end to it, this pain she sees buried in the depths of her soul, this pain she would trade life to end. She looks back at the life they shared; the house, the children, the joy, and these tears- tears so numerous they could fill the tub.
She envisions the face of the man she has loved; he shines in her mind like a knight in armor racing to protect her. Her hand stretches forward; this image, this man, so tangible she feels she could almost touch him. She reaches for him, her hand sliding ever closer and finally past, into the depths of the tub…
She pulls the plug.
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