Mental

The Balcony

She stared up at the low ceiling. The paint was peeling and and cracks were visible in the corners. Her hands were spread, the covers pulled up to her stomach.

She heard wood creaking beneath her. Her eyes widened as she fumbled with the covers, rolled onto her side and lay still.

The heavy footsteps stopped. With a sudden slam the door opened and there stood a looming figure. He had a broad chin and his hair was a brown mess. He wore a white, ripped unbuttoned shirt with a pair of jeans and brown boots.

She lay still, her breathing nonexistent. She heard him step closer to the bed, the weight causing the floorboards to shift.

The moonlight streamed through the curtains and onto his unblinking face.

"Wake up," he said softly.

She lay still.

"WAKE UP!" he shouted, pulling the covers off her pale body.

She felt adrenaline rush through her body as she jerked up. Fear ran through her bright green eyes. She wanted to scream.

But it would only make it worse.

He grabbed the collar of her shirt as his hand curled into a fist. Her eyes stared at his fierce gaze, pleading for this to be over. He threw her across the room like an unwanted rag doll.

Pain surged through her body. She curled into a tiny ball as glistening tears fell to the floor. She heard his footsteps get closer.

"No. Please stop," she pleaded.

She lay curled up, waiting for his next blow. But it didn't come. She looked up to find that he wasn't there anymore and breathed a sigh of relief.

She crawled back to bed and cried as she looked out her window.

She couldn't take it anymore. All the abuse. All the mistreatment. All the loneliness.

The wind dried her tears as she opened the window and climbed onto the balcony.

Cars raced past and pedestrians walked quietly down the sidewalk. The stars shone in the darkness. She mustered the courage and stood on the railing. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. The wind flowed through her light, auburn hair.

This was it. This was where it all ended.