Unexpected Tragedy of Death- Short Story Piece.

Death was something that people usually feared. It was something that was supposed to happen to an older person, to someone who’s ready and prepared. Death is either unexpected or predicted. It can be scary or peaceful. Death isn’t supposed to be something that was wanted, that was craved and begged for. Death was supposed to happen when someone’s time is up, and there’s nothing else they can do, or nothing else in life for them. It’s the last option, the final happening.

She didn’t think so though. She believed there was nothing left, that her life was over. Purpose wasn’t something she believed in. Nor did she buy the destiny card. There were only coincidences, happenings and chances. No such thing as ‘destined fate or purpose’. No such thing as ‘so much more to live for’. She wanted them to understand, to realize that it was her choice to leave the living. She decided there was nothing left. She made the conscious choice to stand at the edge of that cliff, to feel the calmness of the wind, to finally feel free. She craved an escape, then she got it. Her thoughts and insanity had drove her towards a point of pure madness and sorrow. Nothing helped her. Nobody could cure her. She was poisoned, there was no other way out. It had gotten too much, so she wanted out.

Delilah didn’t believe in an afterlife. Once she hit the ground, there would be nothing. Her brain would disconnect, the sensations of life and feelings would be no more. She’s simply be a broken corpse, destined to rot beneath ground. People would feel sorry, they’d become sorrowful, but it would pass. She would be gone; her corpse is simply a body that she used. A layer of skin. The real her was the way she acted, the way she had went out of her way to act kind and loving. The way she behaved. Her innocent personality. Those were the things that should matter, not her skin and body, they shouldn’t miss that. It’s the memories that break people. It’s the remembrance of their presence, the nostalgia that hits them at night of their moments and talks together. It wasn’t the body that they missed. It was the soul.

They’d realize who she was and what kind of person she was after she’s gone. They’d think about her actions, they’d want her back, to see what they didn’t see before. It would kill them mentally. She wanted them to feel that pain. She wanted to die, to show them loneliness and sorrow. She wanted to feel the sweet release of death to save herself from the pain, then to endure emotional pain on others. It was her way of vengeance. Of showing them what they lost. Only, she wouldn’t be there to observe their guilt and despair. She wouldn’t be there to see what she caused. She’d be gone, and they couldn’t get her back, not ever. It’s the reality of the situation that pains them. There is no more of Delilah Patterson, only the fading memory.

Standing at the edge of the high-up cliff, looking down at the ground below, she knew this is what she wanted, she knew it was right for her. Delilah’s mind was clear. It was a sober decision made by an unstable mess. She wouldn’t back out. It seemed okay to her.

First it had started with insecurity and doubts. Then came the persistent, negative thoughts. Over-thinking. Stress. Anxiety. Insults. Problems. Pressure of family. Depression. More symptoms. Crazed looks, abandonment from friends. Mental illness. Anger and sorrow, tears and shaking. Panicked nights. It built up over the years, it killed her mentally, emotionally, internally. She was never okay. It slowly ruined her, slowly caused a burning madness within her that nobody could relate to, that no one could comprehend. It was serious, yet everyone considered her feelings and problems a joke. It made her angry. It made her feel unwanted and silly.

Stupid girl, nobody cares about your intense sadness and issues. She’d always think to herself. It was too difficult to handle. Having good friends leave because of her mental illness worries, having them get bored of her distress. It couldn’t be understandable by her. Why would they suddenly leave? Why is it that we stopped suddenly talking? She wanted to know the answers, yet never got them.

She wanted to make them regret that decision to leave her. She wanted to make them want to go back in time, to have tried to help her. It made her happy to know they’d suffer. She was cruel in that way. Cruelty was something that became a choice of hers. Acting harsh wasn’t something that was a part of her, it was a simple doing caused by feelings and actions. Taking another step closer to the edge, she felt another piece of her lighten. Free. She smiled and closed her eyes. Everything was calm. Numbness overtook her. None of her past issues were there, it’s like they vanished in that moment. Escape. Escape. Escape. She repeated those words inside of her head, craving the need to get away.

It was clear to her that she wouldn’t get better, only worse things would happen. She didn’t think it, she knew it. Only her knew what was best for herself. Nobody else. Nobody understood. Nobody really knew her. No one. She was alone, alone with herself. She was content with that.

There was no sentimental and emotional note. No warning as to what she was doing, it was simply like any other ordinary day. Nobody knew of what would happen today. It was unpredicted. Unexpected. Her death would be something nobody saw coming, that everyone was unprepared for. It would leave them in a mess.

To her, death wasn’t a big deal. So, she wouldn’t make her death a big deal. There was nothing planned or calculated about this, she was simply going with her instinct, doing what felt right. Jump. Splat. Die. That’s all that would happen. No speech, no tears, quick release.

Taking a breath and looking at her surrounding, she blinked once more. Fiddled her fingers once more. Glanced at the beauty of nature once more, for the last time. Her mind was blank, her conscious was clear, she was ready.

Leap. That’s what she did. Simple as that. She jumped without a second thought and fell through the air. Her hair whipped around her face. Eyes closed. She fell peacefully, smiling.

Somewhere close to the final end, a thought came through her head. A doubtful thought. She wondered if this was right, if she should keep trying. Her hesitance spooked her. But, it was too late. Nothing could be done about that one pestering thought. That thought that made her reconsider her choice. It was already done.

Her end came. The ruined body hit the solid ground. The sensations were gone. She had fallen into the void. Darkness overcame her. There was nothing left. Simply a broken corpse, left to be found by a passing by stranger. To be observed and evaluated. To be prodded then buried. To spend the rest of time beneath soil and grasses.

The world went on; her death was a mere tragic speck in the universe. Only a few people knew, out of billions. The sorrow would be temporary, then there would be acceptance. Her want for vengeance would be soiled by the reality. She was wrong. But, she wouldn’t know that. She expected things that didn’t happen. She assumed. She planned. But it failed. Her reality, and the actual reality, were two different things. She wouldn’t be around to realize that though. Time would pass, she’d be forgotten.

Like a passing piece of history. Her vengeance was a mere delusion of what she craved. Nothing is ever the same, or ever turns out the way we wanted or expected in our heads. Always different. Always screwing us. It’s simply the sad way the universe works.