This is What I Come Up With In Geometry: Take One

She laughed. She threw her head back and howled at everything, though the situation was far from funny. She laughed hysterically until tears streamed down her face and crashed to the floor with a deafening echo. No one looked at her. They gasped and shook their heads, whispering "Bless her heart," and "poor dear" to their neighbors and silently judging her all the while. She must be mad, so stricken with grief that she had lost her mind. "Bless her heart," they said, "I'll pray for her."

But she didn't want their prayers. She was too far gone. Nothing could save her. Nothing could be the same again, not now that he was gone. Not now that she understood.

Life was meaningless. It was a cruel joke. She was nothing but a plaything, mindless entertainment for some larger being. Insignificant. Disposable. Life was a joke that no one ever quite got, but a joke all the same. There was no real point. She had no purpose. There was no reason to stay. And if he could leave, then so could she.

He wasn't supposed to leave. He said forever. This wasn't supposed to happen. Love was supposed to be enough. Why couldn't it save him? Why wasn't she worth it for him to stay?

She had been sad, at first. She had spent days crying and praying to every false idol i nthe world to bring him back. And then she realized. Life was just a game. And she had lost. But she didn't have to surrender to this defeat, allow her pain to weigh on her heart for the rest of her days. She didn't have to deal with it. If he could leave, then so could she.

Eventually her laughter died down and she was reduced to a shaking, blubbering miserable being sobbing on the floor. Time passed. People left, not daring to spare her a second glance. When she was a lone she stood and moved towards him.

The peaceful beauty of his lifeless face stunned and saddened her, but she didn't cry anymore. She was drained. She hardly had the strength to lift her hand to gentrly stroke his cheek. He was so cold. His skin sent ice shooting up her arm at the slightest touch.

"Why'd you have to do it, baby?" she whispered. "We could have been so happy." But her words sounded hollow. She knew now that happiness was just a part of the game - a dirty trick the man in charge used to keep his pawns around.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a bottle with four small white pils at the bottom. "You were selfish, baby," she chided, "you didn't leave me nearly enough."

She pulled out another bottle, this one half full, and a flask.

"Here's to you, baby," she said with a half-hearted smile as she combined the bottles and swallowed the pills with a swig of alcohol. "We'll be together soon."

She sank to the floor and waited for the pills to take effect. Shel istened to the tick of the clock, counting the seconds until her death. It wasn't supposed to happen this way.