why she jumped
Why, had been the question which lingered on curious tongues, not much pity or sadness had struck hearts, neither had respect frankly. Yes, she'd killed herself in the most public manner, sad eyes and a sadder mind flattened much like her pulse the minute her slender fingers, somehow sad too, fluttered in a goodbye.
I didn't have much left on my sour-tasting tongue to think or speak. I didn't cry, there was little point in the notion. She'd died and that's it, the book is closed the road has ended not much point in questions and tears. Instead I'd very much been rendered useless and how selfish was she. I understand the sadness drawing her frown and the lack of everything good but there was me. I was there, I'd always been there.
She hadn't left a sign; she hadn't given away her stuff none of that bullshit. She was just there, then she wasn't.