The Life She Deserves
1/1
My newborn daughter lay in the room down the hall. She’s asleep, thank god; I couldn’t bear to go through with my plan if she was awake. From the moment I saw her I loved her, it’s an amazing feeling: love at first sight. It’s because of my new love that I have to do this, that I have to give her the life I know she deserves, the life that she will never have if I’m around.
It’s the middle of the night and completely dead in this area of the hospital. The lady who works at the front desk must have been in the washroom, which worked to my advantage. I was able to take the key to the roof without anyone noticing.
The cold winter air is freezing my face, whipping my hair in every direction. I hold onto the railing harder, thinking hard not to look down. If I look down now, I’ll loose my nerve, and I can’t loose it, not now, not when I’m so close.
I can feel my hand slipping now. The railing is cold. I don’t know if I can stay up much longer. The road is ten stories blow, with cars rushing down it. All I have to do is let go and that’s it, an instant good life for my child. If I’m gone, then someone else gets her, someone who will always be there for her, someone who won’t be too distracted with a heroin addiction.
The drug holds a power over me. I can’t resist it, I’ve tried. I’ve made all through my pregnancy without it, just to protect my baby. But now that she’s out of me, I can’t hold back anymore. I can feel my body’s need for it. I know that I’ll become an addict again soon, and because of that she will suffer in the long run. I can’t do that to her.
I wait a bit, but then I know I can’t stall any longer. I look up at the stars and sigh.
“This is for you.” I whisper silently, closing my eyes.
I let go. I feel the air rushing around me. It’s like I’m flying. I smile.
This is for you, I chant.
The pain is unbearable, I try to scream but I can’t. All I can see is green and blue, a loud ringing in my ears. Suddenly, I feel numb. Everything is fading away, the noise, the pain.
I love you. I whisper in my head.
Everything goes black.
♠ ♠ ♠
Deleted Part:The stars shine bright above me, their twinkling catches my eye. I look up at them, smiling. I wonder if my daughter will think of me when she looks up at the stars just like I’m thinking of her now. I highly doubt it, she won’t even know me. No, stop thinking of her, otherwise you won’t do this.