Based on the movie “Wristcutters.”
The drops of water crashed all over her, incorporating even more so in the pool her shower could take, as long as she sat over the drain, no water would escape. As long as the doors would be able to take as much water as she needed to drown… but it instead only just let the water free to soak the tiles of the bathroom floor. The whimpers were endless, whoever had the bad luck to spend the night in that apartment would believe they were sleeping with a half-cut cat crying out for its life at the other side of their bedroom door. But it was no cat, and there was no blood, nobody was dying, not today anyway. Violet sat under the water, her back pressed tightly against the white tiles of the bathroom wall, her red, pale feet retracted so much they touched her hips, her arms locking the knees which were so tightly pressed against her chest only for some sort of balance. For some sort of comfort.
But comfort never came, and she only felt worse by the second.
Tomorrow would have been the day where she’d walk out of the front door, with life forming inside of her, a fetus who would’ve been a baby, a baby who would’ve been a boy or a girl, she didn’t know, but she wanted to so badly, she had wanted to think of the day she would finally have that happy chapter in her life. One that would make her feel finally useful, like she could finally do something that would change lives, or perhaps only just one, maybe only the baby’s. Weeks ago she had felt like she could rule the world with that child, like she could be the person she wanted to be, to be the sun in this little creature’s life, who knew? They always told children at schools that they could manage to become the President one day, and who knew if maybe this one creature would have had been able to achieve it? Whether it was a boy or a girl, it didn’t matter, she only just wanted the baby to live, but the phone, and his voice… he seemed so eager about it. It disgusted her.
“My baby!” the impulse of the whimper that came out almost left her out of breath. “My poor baby!” her face was already a grimace of flesh so pale it almost seemed purple, her nose was pink from the chilly air and the cold water, she could barely feel her limbs, but her chest felt as if the weight of a million circus elephants would’ve aimed to crush her small body. The air came out of her lungs every time as if somebody had punched her right in her belly, forcing the air out of her lungs, but never making an attempt to bring it back to her system. Did you ever wonder how it felt like when you’ve cried restlessly for hours? At first you felt the need to breathe in deeper to sob as loud as you needed to, but as the minutes passed, you just wept and felt this burning inside your throat that made you forget completely about stupid little things such as breathing. Breathing, in the land of sorrow, was nothing but a petty thing that would keep you alive for more suffering to come.
Violet’s eyes had been sealed shut during the entirety of the event, and only just now let her tired neck stretch and drive her head back to lay against the wall behind her, her entire neck stung with pain for the strain of having been pushed forward as her face fell on top of her knees, or between her legs. A shiver ran down her spine, and she felt her skin crawling, goosebumps sending minimal shivers to erect the hairs at the back of her neck, at her arms, and legs. She knew the cold would come, it always did one way or another. She didn’t care, nothing would move her from where she sat tonight, or so she thought. Her mind oozed with thoughts, I should’ve known. I shouldn’t have been so naïve. My baby won’t ever see the light of day… No, no, no, no, no. Don’t be so stupid, it’s not a baby, it’s barely a fetus. Only four weeks, or was it five now? Shut up! It’s only a fetus inside of you! A thing… it would only make things worse for you! Robb…
“Robb” she growled through gritted teeth. You stupid little girl. You should’ve gone through with mother’s plans. You should’ve listened, you stupid, stupid girl. How did it come to this? “I hate you!” She screamed out at the man who had trapped her into this, the back of her head hitting hard against the tiles of the bathroom wall. “I HATE you!” the only one to have wrecked this perfect little dream of hers, the liar, the man whom she thought would love her no matter what, or at least have some decency to keep the boy. He could sneak in after work to give him some company, right? He had done it so many times before with Violet. The hollowness of her was now filled with anger, the droplets of water annoyed her to no end. She needed it to stop, when she closed the water, everything seemed to make a little more sense. Her body felt washed out, wasted, scattered through the entire floor. Her throat burned with irritation, sorrow, and irony. She banged her head against the wall a couple more times.
The repeated hits came flowing like electricity through Violet’s body, her sobs getting out of control as her head rushed to meet the concrete beneath the whiteness of the ceramic covering it. Hot tears poured from her eyes, warming up the cold skin at her cheeks, and running down to slide down her throat, and into her chest. Violet didn’t know how many strikes she took, or how long it took her to finally stop, but after a couple of moments she felt her closed eyes open up slowly, her rich blue eyes looking up, staring intently at the white light hovering above her. Her breathing slowed down and deepened, her arms loosened up the grip around her legs, and she felt her head rest above her shoulders. For a moment, her mind had gone blank, and it was as if she’d blended in with the entirety of the room. She had become nothing, a piece of furniture in a room so still she thought would break if she ever moved.
She had made her decision.
The next step to get herself back on her feet seemed to her as if she’d just learned how to walk again, as if she had never before attempted such thing. Her hips hurt and so did her back, her shoulders and feet ached slightly, and one leg had gone numb for having been in such position for the amount of time. Slowly, she got herself out of the shower, and just set foot on the drenched floor, a careful hand to the wall in case she slipped. Violet needed to sleep for the big day tomorrow, and she couldn’t with these soaked clothes. She stripped from everything she had, and hung them at the bars behind her. When she turned around, her eyes caught her own reflection on the mirror; no expression could be seen on her features, neither did she know what she felt inside. She watched herself closely. Her pale skin showed no sign of the purple she thought once painted her flesh, her lips, fully red, nose and cheeks so pink people would have thought it looked rather charmingly to her.
Her gaze lowered to her nakedness in front of the mirror, she wasn’t a skeleton, but she’d always been very thin at the torso, her small waist and ribs easily showing, her flat belly, her full legs and arms, all so pale they would probably be the perfect colour of snow. Her lazy eyes looked over at the reflection in the mirror, batting their lashes for one slow second, and darted away from the room. That night she didn’t sleep, she only just rested. Probably in a state of shock, thinking about all the things she achieved in the past. Yes, it was better to look at the past, otherwise everything would seem worthless—-daylight came and she watched the walls of her room fill in with the colour of light. Of supposed happiness. Curious how it was, in the past, some nights she would not sleep, or wake up before sunrise, just to watch the beauty of the sun coming back to greet her with welcoming arms. She once loved the sound of birds starting to sing at the early hours of the morning, and today was no exception.
She made herself get out of the bed, and look out the window, her lips pursed for a second, but just as the sound of birds singing to her today, in this manner, she could only bite her lip and try not to cry so early. But she didn’t, not one single tear. Today she’d clean the entire house, she needed to set things how they were. Who would want to enter into a filthy house anyway? She had guests today anyway, they just didn’t know it yet. She started with the bathroom, the drenched tiles on the floor, the mirror. Her own bedroom, the living room, leaving the kitchen for the very last. Once she was done, she made herself ready for the trip. Took a long, deserved shower, did her hair, and even put on a pretty dress she had bought for when Robb and her went finally to Greece, but it seemed it wouldn’t happen now. The thought made her smile in a sickening way, disbelief still holding the lips back into a more saddening smile.
When finally Violet set herself to listen, as she drank her tea in her living room, she waited for the phone to ring for a little while before finally taking it from the table in which it had been watched buzzing twice now. No hurries, she had promised herself.
“Violet, I received your message. I’m not coming with you, I thought you’d know I’m busy.”
“Unfortunate, then. You would have liked my present for you. I guess your driver would have it all for himself, then.”
“But I guess you no longer want to see me.”
Hesitation, and she knew she was winning.
“Alright, I’m coming”
No smile crept her lips, she didn’t say another word.
The call ended.
Her heartbeat sped up slightly, but she took in one deep breath before finally getting herself to her feet again. The next minute were contained of her scribbling down with her perfect handwriting a note. She had already left the door unlocked for anybody who’d seen her, she hoped it would be Robb. She needed it to be Robb, the man whom she’d thought would be her knight in shining armour, to finally become one and walk through that door, finding her princess, all ready for him. Violet walked into the kitchen and only just opened the gas switch, and let it fill inside the oven. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, her last clean breath, she had to enjoy it. Just as she had enjoyed that man between her legs, just as she had enjoyed his useless talk, how his hand brushed her skin, the false promises, the hollow words. It was time, she knew, she needed to act quickly.
Violet knelt quickly in front of the oven, and opened it carefully so. She didn’t inhale until she felt like she could hold no more. The smell was awful in her nose, her throat burned from the lack of oxygen, she frowned into a terrible grimace. She thought she’d cry, but she kept herself from doing so, she couldn’t cry, she didn’t want to die like this. She didn’t regret it, she didn’t want to live. A hand was kept on her flat belly as she thought of her baby in those moments. It didn’t take long before her lungs started to ache, like drowning, she had thought. Like being born again. Many times she’d think how being born would’ve been, but never dying. Not until now, that she was alive enough to die. One more sharp breath, and Violet Black’s body fell onto the ground, helpless, lethargic, her heart beat slowly, painfully, but her mind was no longer. It hurt to even breathe. Her eyes opened slowly.