Skip to main content

Heart Break

It was an exceptionally melancholy scene. Elizabeth sat at her small desk next in front of the window. The heavy curtains were drawn, and the only sound was the steady tapping of the rain against the glass. The girl’s cheeks were red and puffy from her long bouts of sobbing. The tears rolling down her cheeks splashed onto her trembling hands as they typed out her last words.
Below the status update box where she would be announcing her own death were dozens of pictures of the girl, he chose instead of her. Ashely was her name. They found her dismembered body just hours ago. They said it may take time to tell what he had done to her and what was the work of rats.
Of course like the others, she had been beautiful and the handpicked memories being shared with a world that was for the moment completely enamored with her emphasized that fact. The quotes taken from those who knew her grieved the horrible loss of a “passionate, optimistic, and dedicated person. The public who mourned for her by proxy were indignant someone could mutilate the statuesque ballerina in the black shoulderless prom gown. It was an image Elizabeth could never compete with.
At 19 years Elizabeth was between adolescence and adulthood when the so-called “bar girl slayer” began his murder spree only blocks for Elizabeth’s apartment. The perpetually lonely girl was instantly convinced the hand of fate had drawn him to her. She knew in her heart of hearts she was the one he was looking for.
Ashley had disappeared two nights from a trendy dive bar called Lips. The fact a serial killer was stalking the enclaves of the hip most likely between the ages of 22-30 and almost certainly a handsome and charming fellow did little to temper the neighborhood’s vibrant if somewhat rambunctious nightlife scene.
Elizabeth waited by herself at the end of the bar occasionally looking up from her sketchbook anxiously awaiting him to approach her. She was there until last call, and again she went home alone and disappointed. The next morning she read about Ashey’s disappearance. She had last been seen as it turned out at Lips.
Now her worse fears had been confirmed. He had been there, and undoubtedly had seen  Elizabeth, and decided to pass over her for someone else. It was more than her delicate heart could bear.
Elizabeth’s life was built around her infatuation with the faceless stranger. It was all held together by a vision of an impossible future where she would be the one to rehabilitate him. The lonely girl believed they were kindred souls and that with her unconditional love he would be relieved of his violent impulses. Now that naive hope was shattered, and she realized her loneliness was a permanent condition. One from which she would never find any relief.
Nothing in the age of social media is private, and Elizabeth’s decision to end her existence would be no exception. Her suicide note was to be an open letter to all 337 friends and acquaintances on Facebook. This would be the first and only time they all noticed her. She tapped the post button and quickly closed her laptop and turned off her phone.
She rested her head on her folded arms and waited for pills dissolving in her stomach to carry her off into a beautiful eternal slumber.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

There are no closets in foxholes

Private Stuart Breyers had joined the marine corps during peacetime. The plan was to use his two-year hitch as a transition period into becoming an independent young man. Not six weeks after his 19th birthday the boy’s limited term of existence had been significantly curtailed. He had no more years to look forward to only mere moments.
He walked in a single file line with his comrades under the darting eyes of their Japanese captors. His fingers were laced behind his head, and he didn’t dare move his hands to shield his eyes from the blinding tropical sun or the salty sting of his sweat. Breyers had spent his life in the vast cornfields of Middle America where the grey skies of winter lingered for months on end. The Pacific sun turned his flesh a pulsing red. The Japanese fleet loomed ominously in the still crystal blue waters. The massive steel barrels of their guns had returned to their resting position. Occasionally a grenade blast in the thick jungle rattled the birds out of the tr…

The Borderline Angel of Death

I would like to thank Burning House Press for featuring this piece!

At the age of thirty, Daniel Lufto lived alone in a single bedroom apartment. In his first thirty years on Earth he had made very few lasting connections, and at this point, his existence had virtually no perceptible impact on anyone else. He was just another recurring face on the bus ride to work, a vaguely remembered customer in the local liquor store.
As a human being, Daniel existed on a strictly interim basis. His home was even on a month to month arrangement. On any day he and his meager belongings could be swept out and with that almost any trace of Daniel's corporeal existence.
Daniel wasn’t so solitary by choice. He and the world around him could never find the proper way to engage each other. Daniel grew up, but he never developed into a fully fleshed out human being. He had no particular interests or hobbies absolutely nothing could captivate him. It was as if he had been deprived an imagination and was…

The Bronze Bull

After the Mormon army armies reached the east coast, they set to work salvaging and restarting the long-abandoned foundries scattered across the landscape. The blast furnaces once again were swollen with molten steel, and the towering brick stacks erupted with volcanic ferocity. The forked flames lashed at the clouds and the billowing smoke blackened the sky heralding the ascendancy of the continent's new masters.
Roaming bands of scavengers had been picking at the bones of New York City for decades. THe nibbling quickly turned into a full feeding frenzy. Legions of landless farmers and rootless laborers descended on the ruins. They worked as ceaselessly as termites to hollow out the steel carcass.
John Nelson had traveled a long way to get a look inside the old city. He was a Captain Edler in the Bringham Young regiment an outfit that had spent the better part of a decade fighting across the continent. The spry young Captain was an avid student of history, and even though dead o…