The End: based on Bullet by Hollywood Undead

My ankles look so skinny, I thought as they limply swung over the edge.

My eyes fuzzed out of focus repeatedly as hiccups racked my chest. The elephants must be coming, was my bleary thought. Then the dizziness came. Must be the pills, an empty bottle of the prescribed sleeping pills lay discarded behind me.

I took a long draw from the vodka bottle I'd somehow lifted from my foster family's wine cabinet. If they didn't want me to have it, they shouldn't have hidden it in such an obvious place like inside a hole dug in the basement who's lock I professionally picked. By the time they noticed its dissappearance, I wouldn't be around to take the punishment.

My legs dangled lifelessly in front of me. The people marched like ants, the sticks shoved up their a*ses must have gone in deep. They all seemed to waddle clumsily-- or was it my vision?

I shrugged uncaring, swallowing the last of the fiery liquid before the glass smashed against the opposing wall, shattering. The sound of tinkling glass filling the otherwise stagnant air.

It was time. I'd polished off the bottle. The only thing left was the drop. My nervousness had fallen away years ago. The beatings pushing my fear into a small corner where, slowly, it shrank into oblivion.

Absently, I scratched at the uniform scars that went line after line to the crease in my elbow. The only evidence of their sins. The story will die with me.

I stood carefully, not wanting to fall prematurely which would go against the plan. That would suggest it had been an accident. Surely, no one wanted that.

I balanced between life and death. waiting for the pills to kick in. They were only a secondary measure. The fall should eliminate any chance for resuscitation, but I wanted to be sure. After being shipped from foster home to foster home, you wanted your last decision to be your own. To have control over the scissors that cut your ties to fate.

" I wish that I could fly,

Way up in the sky,

Like a bird so high,

Oh, I might just try,

Oh, I might just try..." The lyrics were my inspiration. I followed the instructions to the last point. All that was left was the jump.

I stepped forward until my left foot floated above the concrete road. The cars and people swiftly made their way to their destinations not once did they look up. I snickered, it amazed me how oblivious they all were, absorbed in their own private lives.

"Happy last birthday, Isabell." I said, fake enthusiasm echoed emptily. Who would hear it?

I pushed away from the edge. The fall was easy. No past memories flashed in my eyes. I appreciated it, I didn't want to relive it all over again. As I neared the concrete street, the silence broke with concerned screams and shrieks for help for the falling child.

They were probably worried she might injure their property, she scoffed. Her body relaxed into a calming stupor. She took a deep breathe and waited for the end.