11/29/16

Her reflection in the mirror glued her to the ground that she stood in horror.

Her eyes lacked exuberance. It resembled someone who didn't have anything in life to live for. Her skin was wrinkled and not supple. Her hair was coarse, stringy and devoid of any life. Fighting a battle she would never win drained her positivity and emotions and left her feeling helpless. Her tortured soul dragged her underwater and she didn’t know how long she could fight the currents. She needed help - and fast - but didn’t know where or who to turn to.

“There’s one,” a little voice reminded her. “Think harder.”

Him.

The only trustworthy friend who would bury her secrets with him.

She shoved at her hair, unsure if she desired to expose her weaker side to him. It would require him to make sacrifices that she didn’t want him to. The poor chap had issues of his own to resolve, which came at the price of studying abroad, and she, being of the reasonable mind, refused to increase the burden on his shoulders. He had a bright future ahead of him: excellent grades, a scholarship, a promising career in the field of science or medicine, and an internship in the works. It was not worth the risk for him.

“No. I’m not letting my dilemma or difficulties stand in his way of attaining success. He’s come too far to risk anything.”

Thrown deep into the ocean and not in control of her mind, she spied the prescription container of sleeping pills and emptied its contents onto her palm. Although her line of studies warned her of the dangerous consequences of disobeying her doctor’s instructions, she could no longer summon the energy to fight the demons as her body grew weary. She reached out to the nearest bottle - a Cabernet Sauvignon - and drained it.

Screams reverberated in the air when her trustworthy friend discovered her slumped on the floor with a head injury. A barren bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon stood on the wooden coffee table and there was a blood stain at the end of her dining table, which led him to assume that she whacked her head on it as she lost consciousness and collapsed. He paled as he dialled for emergency on his iPhone and prayed for her survival while waiting for assistance.

“No,” he howled with panic and cradled her in his arms. “Don’t you dare leave me without a proper adieu!”

She heard his pleas from a distance and couldn’t respond to him. She felt that she was as light as a feather and floating, ridden of the earthy worries, as a greater, peaceful force lugged her soul towards the white light.

He gingerly entered the ward for the fear of disturbing her rest and slid her hands into his while he absorbed the silence that grew between them, but save for the soft beeping of the breathing machine next to her. He stared at her limp body with tears that watered a thousand sunflowers. If only he was aware about her emotional pain, he would’ve ensured in his capacity that she wouldn’t be suffering alone.

“She suffered from an overdose,” the attending physician had mentioned to him. “We’ve pumped the contents from her stomach, so she’ll survive and make a full recovery soon.”

He remembered that her face was drawn with a genuine, bright smile in his presence and although he detected the faint trace of exhaustion in her eyes, it never dawned on him to inquire or grill her about it. He respected her enough to understand that she would spill the beans if it was important. Knowing her, he chalked it to her academic stress and ambitious goals, but now blamed himself for not pressing further. He should’ve pressed her further until she caved under the pressure.

At least she wouldn't be in the fragile state that she is in now.

At least she wouldn't have taken such a drastic action.

“Why did you choose to endure on your own? I promised that I’ll be there for you no matter what and will keep true to my words. You could’ve shared your pain and sorrows with me, it's fine. I wouldn't have let you suffered in silence.”