Chapter 7 - Waiting: Part III, Cynic
Submitted January 13, 2008 Updated April 6, 2010 Status Incomplete | Okay, so, the other day I was thinking (scary, huh?). I have no way to share my short stories other than creating a story thing for each. why not just have one whole 'story' for short stories? so, here we are. Just Because.
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Chapter 7 - Waiting: Part III, Cynic
Chapter 7 - Waiting: Part III, Cynic
Waiting: Part III, Cynic
Listless eyes gazed up out of the window, seeing nothing but the gray snow falling to the street below. A piece of the snow landed beside her hand on the windowsill, right beside the tiny bottle. What she saw in that bottle…was escape.
Slowly, her fingers enclosed the bottle, her other hand, shaking, tore the cap off, the cap falling to the floor. Breathing slowly, trying to calm her hammering heart, she gazed once more past the window frame, once more upon the city of hate.
She glared at the city, glared at the sullen lights all around her. Hatred and loathing filled her heart, pushing the fear behind the barricade. She turned her back on the city of hatred, the city of her birth, her life. She turned her back on all the family she had ever known, on the people she had depended on. Now there was no one left for her to lean on, and she was done waiting for them, done being a good little girl for them.
Without a hesitating glance, she took the bottle to her lips and flipped back her head, chugging the contents of the bottle.
Just as weakness clutched her body, the ground shook and threw her to the ground, her arms flailing to catch the window frame. With all the strength left in her frail body, she lifted her head and watched as flames and smoke…and ash filled the sky.
As the last of her strength failed her, her eyes fell upon a dark silhouette staring at her from far off in the distance; never moving, never breathing, never making a sound.
Only staring at her last the last beat of her heard sounded and she slipped silently to the floor, away from the windowsill, away from the rushing heat and ash.
Listless eyes gazed up out of the window, seeing nothing but the gray snow falling to the street below. A piece of the snow landed beside her hand on the windowsill, right beside the tiny bottle. What she saw in that bottle…was escape.
Slowly, her fingers enclosed the bottle, her other hand, shaking, tore the cap off, the cap falling to the floor. Breathing slowly, trying to calm her hammering heart, she gazed once more past the window frame, once more upon the city of hate.
She glared at the city, glared at the sullen lights all around her. Hatred and loathing filled her heart, pushing the fear behind the barricade. She turned her back on the city of hatred, the city of her birth, her life. She turned her back on all the family she had ever known, on the people she had depended on. Now there was no one left for her to lean on, and she was done waiting for them, done being a good little girl for them.
Without a hesitating glance, she took the bottle to her lips and flipped back her head, chugging the contents of the bottle.
Just as weakness clutched her body, the ground shook and threw her to the ground, her arms flailing to catch the window frame. With all the strength left in her frail body, she lifted her head and watched as flames and smoke…and ash filled the sky.
As the last of her strength failed her, her eyes fell upon a dark silhouette staring at her from far off in the distance; never moving, never breathing, never making a sound.
Only staring at her last the last beat of her heard sounded and she slipped silently to the floor, away from the windowsill, away from the rushing heat and ash.
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