our fall in may||BWS (completed)

Chapter 59

May

Wild. 

That's the word I like to use to describe the world. Wild. 

Humans are animals. They don't eat food, they feed off pain.

Huh, Pain.

Another commonly used word. Such little meaning.

Meaning?

The meaning of life is just basically nothing. How could someone love you, then just leave after losing a child? Our child?

Child.

Children aren't gifts anymore. Animals are born and grow into what we are; just older, more mature creatures.

My child wouldn't have been an animal. My child would've been a gift. 

My baby would've been the prettiest baby.I knew it even through I wouldn't be able to see her.

But she's won't come back.

My baby would never laugh. My baby would never smile. My baby would never trip and ask her mommy to kiss it better. My baby wouldn't be ticklish on her sides and scream with laughter when we used it to our advantage. My baby wouldn't ask where she came from. My baby wouldn't sit atop her dad's shoulders to watch the Disney parade. My baby would never pick out a favorite princess or superhero. My baby would never be an athlete or quiet, sweet girl. My baby wouldn't have best friends. My baby would never have a boyfriend or get married or have her own babies.

Because my baby is dead.

_

My days went by slow.

I would write letters to him. Letters that he would never receive because I didn't send them. I just reread them. 

My therapist said he had a girlfriend. 

Yup. That did we well. I didn't cry until I couldn't do it anymore, sleep then get over him. No. 

I screamed at three in the morning until the neighbors - who are over half a mile away - called the police, thinking I was being murdered. I cried until I couldn't breathe and passed out. I subconsciously clawed at my own skin until I would bleed. I didn't eat or sleep. I threw things everywhere until three fourths of the whole house was destroyed. 

Totally should've told me that doc. Great job. Gold fucking star, asshole.

When he changed his number? Oh, boy was that fun. I text-voiced the number even though I knew it wouldn't work. I asked the number to please come home, where it belonged. I threw the phone and broke it.

Do you know how hard it is to be blind and live on your own? No, I bet you don't.

It's like being in a pitch black room, searching for the light and feeling around for anything to help you get out of the darkness. You could be searching for food in the kitchen, but end up slicing your hand with a knife. I did that. My phone was smashed and not working, so I had to wait for mom to come the next day with a towel around the hand. I had seventeen stitches. I could've bleed out and died.

Death.

It's something I thought about often. I didn't blame him for thinking death is better than life. It's better than the suffering. I wished I could go to that place. Maybe I wouldn't be blind there.

I wanted to die so bad.

I had a plan. 

The tub.

 I filled it with ice cold water. I stripped down to my bra and underwear, kicking the clothes into the corner. I ran my hands up and down my tired, weak face and put my outgrown, split hair into a bun on top of my head. I pushed my boney hands against my prominent ribcage before delicately tracing my facial features, trying to visualize myself for the last time. I put his heavy metal box of art supplies next to the ledge for a chest weight. My mother had left an hour ago, so I was completely alone. In silence.

I shut my eyes and stepped into the tub. 

_______

Well

There's one more chapter of Our Fall In May! 

-Rose