Two Hearts, One Love
One
The phone continued to buzz. I didn’t bother. I knew what it would be. More insults, more taunts, more accusations. I couldn’t stand to see it again, not after everything. Part of me wanted to respond, to fight back. That would just be feeding to his ego and his abuse, though. I sniffled and wiped my running nose, staring blandly across the city skyline.
I was on my roof, nestled where the chimney and shingles met at a ninety degree angle. It was cold for March but I could barely feel it. The only indication that my body was experiencing it was the running nose and cough starting to build in my throat. I was in the same clothes I left the hospital in; they even still had the blood on them.
A dry sob escaped my lips as I remembered the doctor’s words followed by my fiancé’s words. Those hateful words and the stabs of betrayal. I shut my eyes tightly but that just allowed the scene to play in my mind again. I couldn’t stand it and dropped my phone, tugging at my hair. I had to get the thoughts out but nothing was working.
I let the sobs out again. I was surprised I still had tears in me to cry. They didn’t bring the catharsis I wanted, I needed. Instead, each tear just fed the memories and the feelings.
I could see the blood in a pool at my feet. I saw the doctor’s sad face as he carried a clipboard into the hospital room. I saw the same disbelief in my soon-to-be husband’s eyes. Then I saw the anger, the hatred. Angry words spewed from his mouth like acidic vomit. He slapped me, threw me out of the apartment we had been sharing. Drunken texts and voicemails filled my phone and I couldn’t take it.
I stood up and walked forward on shaky legs. The house was two stories. That should be plenty, right? Twenty feet plus the extra five or so from the elevated roof….
I stared at the sidewalk below my mother’s home. It was the middle of the night and no one was around. I waited for some kind of miraculous thought. Something that would keep me from jumping. Nothing came to me, though. All I could think of was killing the same thing that had just killed an innocent fetus.
I shut my eyes and leaned forward.
I was on my roof, nestled where the chimney and shingles met at a ninety degree angle. It was cold for March but I could barely feel it. The only indication that my body was experiencing it was the running nose and cough starting to build in my throat. I was in the same clothes I left the hospital in; they even still had the blood on them.
A dry sob escaped my lips as I remembered the doctor’s words followed by my fiancé’s words. Those hateful words and the stabs of betrayal. I shut my eyes tightly but that just allowed the scene to play in my mind again. I couldn’t stand it and dropped my phone, tugging at my hair. I had to get the thoughts out but nothing was working.
I let the sobs out again. I was surprised I still had tears in me to cry. They didn’t bring the catharsis I wanted, I needed. Instead, each tear just fed the memories and the feelings.
I could see the blood in a pool at my feet. I saw the doctor’s sad face as he carried a clipboard into the hospital room. I saw the same disbelief in my soon-to-be husband’s eyes. Then I saw the anger, the hatred. Angry words spewed from his mouth like acidic vomit. He slapped me, threw me out of the apartment we had been sharing. Drunken texts and voicemails filled my phone and I couldn’t take it.
I stood up and walked forward on shaky legs. The house was two stories. That should be plenty, right? Twenty feet plus the extra five or so from the elevated roof….
I stared at the sidewalk below my mother’s home. It was the middle of the night and no one was around. I waited for some kind of miraculous thought. Something that would keep me from jumping. Nothing came to me, though. All I could think of was killing the same thing that had just killed an innocent fetus.
I shut my eyes and leaned forward.