"Of myriads of mistake, she shall survive"
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Faster. Faster.
She pedalled faster, her cycle almost flying overhead. It was chasing her, rapidly nearing her like a cheetah. Her surroundings turned to nothing but a distance blur. The wind ripped through her body making her hardly built façade falter and her eyes moistened.
She had no place to go, nowhere to turn, no one for aid. In the end, it was just her...and the Grim Reaper. Or atleast that's what she had conjured up in her mind.
The bicycle was her only solace now, the one thing that could alleviate and shoo away the darkness chasing her. It took her far away from where burdens lived, not that she wasn't already a good thousand miles away from home.
She pedalled far away into the outskirts of New York City, an hour passed since she had left Brooklyn. Trees and greens took prominence over street lamps and posts, doors and windows of houses sealed shut in value for privacy.
An elderly woman, clothed in a red and white checkered night gown, which in point of Belle's view was utterly abnormal taken into consideration the time of the hour, looked at her with apprehension. She feared where Belle would end in with that speed of the bicycle, presumably under a truck. But that was what she already wanted anyway.
She noticed, belatedly, the majority of people which happened to be was of two things; one elderly and two probably half a dozen people were wearing nightgowns. Dusk hadn't completely devoured the sun yet. The sneaky thing that hidden behind the dreary clouds.
She came to a halt abruptly in the middle of nowhere, her breathing abnormally erratic. By now, she had gotten used to the abnormalities in her life albeit not accepted it...yet. Her vision multiplied, giving her innumerable distorted images of her surroundings.
Her hand grasped the handle of a wooden bench tightly, letting the balance on it as she tried to control her racing heart. The aching pain on her chest was eccentrically changing, descending and ascending with each passing moment. When she'd thought the pain reduced, the next moment it rose with an even soaring pain.
Both her hands clutched the bench as she crashed onto it trying her best to even her beats and shivers.
She was unaware of how long it had passed before small unhandy fingers wrapped around a bottle of water came into her vision. She followed the fingers to the hands which ended up on a small, not less than 12 year old boy. He looked at her with innocent blue eyes that had a tinge of curiosity.
He reminded her of Ian, her wild younger brother she'd rather dump inside a garbage bin than think of.
He gestured at the bottle, a silent request to drink what he presumptively thought could quench and save her from the pain. She followed his command, gulping everything left from the bottle.
The water streaming down her parched throat instantly cooled the drought that plagued her thoracic cavity. She felt as if a pair of golden wings spread over her lungs bringing a cold sensation which almost immediately made the pain raise it's skirt and run away.
"Thank you" she choked holding the boy's small hands over hers gratefully. A single tear rolled down her cheek and the small smile on the boy's face immediately vanished, leaving a perplexed look instead.
She wiped it and smiled, "Don't worry. It's a tear of gratitude"
He nodded. Sighing, she ruffled his black hair. It felt like a velvet cushion under her tear stained palm and reminding her of the raven haired boy she had forgotten the name of due to the circumstances.
The boy tapped her on the shoulder dragging her back to her shattered reality. She looked at the boy, below his tattered waves of black strands hid warm chocolate brown eyes staring at her with a renewed interest. She realised visitors were quite infrequent to this neighbourhood, resulting the boy double his inquisitivity.
"What's your sweet name, dearie?"
The boy didn't reply, unfaltering he stared at her with the curious eyes of a baby penguin. Even at death's call, she hadn't quit resembling humanoid objects to birds.
"George! It's time for bed" a voice behind called.
A young woman, still in her office attire, stood at the porch gesturing George, the little boy she presumed, to hurry inside. He nodded in her direction, took a minute to kiss goodbye to an amused looking Belle and raced back to his mother.
George, a sweet name for a sweet boy, she thought a smile appearing on her face.
His house was a good ten houses away from the bench, so she could only see the mere silhouette of two figures in the dimly lit street, one short and the other lean and tall which she suspected would be his mother.
The lady bent down to speak to him and after a short exchange of words, the woman waved at Belle before going inside with little George on her trail, and she waved back.
The door closed leaving her alone in the dark street again.
She buried her face in her hands, and stayed put for as long as she could remember.
Behind the closed curtains of her eyes, images played like in a film roll. Pictures of her childhood, of her best friends, of Ian and Ivory snuggling close to her at night when the skies frightened them with loud rumbles of thunder or when the three siblings built castles on the beach where Ian acted the knight in shining armor saving the poor princess Ivory held captive by a hideous monster, which sadly happened to be Belle.
She thought of her parents. Holding her, hugging her, caressing her while she cried on her mother's shoulder when her little birdie had died, or scolding her for bringing an unvaccinated street dog home, and of her parents kissing her goodbye a few months ago, blessing her for a better future in New York. But she hadn't realised her end would have been sealed too soon.
Promise me, Belle. She had failed her mother.
Her mother had asked a simple request that she failed to accomplish. It was time to go back to Him. A sore loser had Belle turned into.
Tears threatened to fall, she needn't worry of people pitying or looking at her in contempt today. In this empty street which the name she wasn't aware of, she could freely let the viscous streaks of hopelessness and fear inside her go. But she didn't.
Today, when she actually died, her face would not be tear stained nor wretched with despair but a soul hidden from the gossips of people.
Unfortunately, she realised the streets being empty also resulted in a very few amount of vehicles driving past her. The only resolution she had come upon was to...wait. Wait for the perfect moment.
The wait took longer than she thought but she consoled herself saying 'the moment should be perfect'.
In the distance, a bright light coloured her vision. A vehicle, she thought delightedly. Just like little George had raced to his mother, Belle ran to the middle of the road as if to embrace death's wings.
Her heartbeats increased, perspiration moistening her forehead as she closed her eyes, waiting for the vehicle to hit her.
Her senses activated and so did her erratic breathing, the vehicle neared her. The lights brightening made her closed black vision turn blood-red in colour.
It neared. Near. Nearer. Nearer. Just a little.
The vehicle abruptly came to a halt, she opened her eyes and almost staggered back.
The dingy truck was discolored so much as to make the green colour of it look almost a painful grey. The dent in the engine was the only thing that kept distance between her and the truck. If it weren't for the dent, thanks to the driver for halting the truck in the right time, she would have been flying on the air probably fracturing her bones and ending up dead. Not that she didn't want the exact thing.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing woman? Trying to end me up in a lock up, huh?" he barked his head jutting out from driver's seat window. She stared at him dubiously, "Go find some other vehicle to be fucking squashed under. Move away now"
She immediately hurried to the sidewalk letting the truck speed away into the darkness. She stared in disbelief, "Of all vehicles, the freaking truck had to have a dent"
"Urgh" the will to scream and clamour over her pathetic life was overwhelming but she kept still, respecting the privacy and peace of the neighbourhood.
She suppressed the small tingly feeling whispering fate has other plans for you, her hands balling the material of her shirt in desperation. She needed to die this moment. At any cost.
With a renewed confidence, God knows where it had come from, she attempted to jump in front of other speeding vehicles, be it a car or bus, without warning.
She had no idea what miracle or curse, depends on your point of view, had fallen upon her from the skies above. Either the vehicle came to an abrupt stop infront of her or dodged her or she was too late, everytime she missed the dang opportunity. And by the end of the day, she was still freaking alive.
Fate has other plans for you.
"What other plans do you have for me?"she shouted frustratedly staring at the starless sky.
"Let me go. Please!"
Silence. No strike of lightening crashed on her, nor did the Earth open up and swallow her inside forever nor did a bat swoop her away for supper. Sad.
Sighing, she decided the best thing to do, was to try another place. The George Washington Bridge.
With both her hands on the handle bars, she walked the bicycle to other side of the road, which was smoother and had less rubble on the road.
Would she meet him today? Would he be standing there trying to end his life?
Why was she thinking of him? It was rather unlikely of her to be pondering over a stranger, even if that was a fine one. Confusing thoughts were brewing inside her mind and body and soul oblivious to the speeding vehicle nearing her.
When she realized and turned to face it, it was too late. Everything that happened afterwards was in fast motion.
The swift red Toyota Civic hit her on the side, crumpling her bicycle to a tatter as she flew on the air. She made contact with something hard and stoik crushing her body as she fell to the ground, her right side making contact first.
An electrifying pain shot through her right hand that extended upto the shoulder and she struggled to breathe. With a feeling of thousand needles pricking her fragile skin she gasped for her last breath
Numbness overtook her sensations causing her to be remote over the pain.
As her eyes, dilated and hazed, fluttered close her soul felt lighter as she opened her spirit to the embrace of darkness with one thought: the Reaper would sign her name out of Earth today.
So this is it. Her perfect moment.
She wasn't aware of the Toyota Civic that sped away from the accident, not bothering to check and host the bleeding victim to a nearby hospital. She also wasn't aware of the porch lights that came to life in the sleeping street, as alarmed and panicking people tumulted over her still body.
She wasn't aware of little George holding his petite fingers together in prayer for her life at stake, praying she would live.
She also wasn't aware that the prayer of an innocent would always, always be of acceptance.
A/N: *Alarms ringing* Do not try this ever, I meant suicide not going to help a victim. This is meant for entertainment purpose so don't try to jump infront of a vehicle thinking you'd survive. It's highly unlikely😆. Unless you're Belle:p
Any song requests for the chapters guys? My mind is currently out of order lol.
Next thing: its a shooort chappy, the most shortest chapter I've written so far. Also don't forget to comment your opinions on the story and also vote if you enjoyed.