She - 1978

She stood in front of the mirror, looking with disgust at her reflection. Sallow skin, dull eyes, a droopy mouth. Self-pity reigned. Funny, how all sad words began with an 'S', she thought. Solitude, self-pity, sadness, suicide. She stopped, it hurt to think too much. She turned away and went to the bed, where she picked up Pete, her teddy bear. She walked to the window and looked at the people, they were like scurrying ants, she decided. Without knowing why she wrenched open the window and flung her scruffy companion out into the early evening sky. He'll be dead now, she thought. She felt a faint, expectant tingling in her limbs. On the dressing table lay her need. She lifted the syringe high and admired it for a moment, before slowly pushing the needle deep into her vein. The song playing on the radio was about a lover, 'lost and lonely', scorned in love. She smiled knowingly. Colours were dancing on the ceiling, blue, red, purple. I hate purple, she screamed. Now all the ceiling was purple, she screamed louder in a rising frenzy and threw a book at the mass of colour. It didn't flicker, instead, it began descending further, became darker. She took slow, careful steps till she reached the open window. She looked back into the room, which was a solid, surging mass of deep purple. She screamed hysterically and turned again towards the window.

In the street below an elderly lady fainted when she, looking up, saw the body spinning towards her. She was lucky. It was, as the policeman described it, 'a bloody awful mess'. In a pitiful pile lay the bodies of a teddy bear with faded yellow fur, an elderly lady still clutching a dozen eggs, now broken and seeping slowly onto the pavement, and a young girl with a long row of red dots on her bare arm.

Alabama

Last modified on Sunday, 7. March 1999