Her sad, vacant, eyes betrayed her tortured soul (or maybe she was too heavily dosed on the newly self-prescribed anxiolytic she’d been taking). She wanted them to understand her, and they did…but they couldn’t come to accept her for who she was, who she wanted to be.
She no longer wanted to talk to people. In fact, she didn’t want to have any thing to do with them, no interaction, no nothing. She just wanted to be alone, on her own; she wanted to cease to exist, and that was precisely what was going through her mind. Her soul was alive, it yearned to live, to be free, to fly, but she squelched it with her bleeding heart and chemically induced state of mind.
Nothing would ever be the same again. She had three months left to live, and unfortunately she wasn’t dying. Not fast enough anyway. She wished it would just pass her by. Maybe she’d get hit by an asteroid falling to earth, maybe in her stupor she’d collide with a car, or maybe her heart would just give up, like she had.
It was easy for her to leave people, but places she fell in love with. Places dragged her in and seduced her with their charms and their ways and their acceptance of her. People were foul creatures, she thought. They liked to force their views upon her, they wanted to change her, they wanted to make her theirs. But she wasn’t. She was individual, she was unique, and that’s really all she ever wanted, her independence to live and be as she liked, where she liked.
But they wouldn’t understand.
And so as the days drew nearer to her self-set expiration date, she took that step. She didn’t have the guts to adhere to more traditional standards, so she took pill after pill, just as she normally would. Only these pills were not paracetemol or ibuprofen (she’d tried those many times before and they never worked). As she put down the empty bottles of acetaminophen and diclofenac di-sodium she’d purchased earlier that afternoon (she loved how the chemical names sounded, they were real, and complex, like herself) her eyes felt heavy and her body felt weakened.
She figured she’d lie down; sleep through the ordeal - there had been enough drama over the past few days. And so she did. And when the angels came to guide her back home, to her creator, she felt nothing but joy and happiness, for she was finally free. She was exactly who she was meant to be.
