She paced back and forth over the linoleum floor, staring at the strange designs of it. Shapes jumped out at her, a triangle here, and a square there. She tried to concentrate on those to keep from being sick. It wasn't the first time she had made herself sick, thinking of how pathetic she was. How could she let one person take control over her? Why had she let him get to her like that? But she had, and now she was slowly dying inside. Taking the pills would only put her out of her misery and speed up the process of the inevitable. With that she made up her mind and went to the kitchen. Picking up a piece of paper and a pen, she wrote:
Mom, Dad, and anyone who ever made a difference in my life,
Then she quickly scribbled that out and started over:
Mom, Dad, and whoever happens to care, I know this is trying and I know that I'm going to kill you. But- he was my world. My very existence- and if he's gone. what do I have left? Nothing. I'm dying inside and by taking myself away, I'm only freeing myself and speeding up the inevitable. Please forgive my selfishness and my inability to get over things. I'm so sorry for the grief and the misery I've put you through in the past, and the grief and misery I'm about to bring. I love you, please- never forget that. Someone get a hold of him. Tell him I'll wait for him in Heaven, if he'll have me. I'm sorry again. I love you with all my heart and soul. Pray for me. Your daughter.
Knowing her fate, she walked slowly back to the bathroom, and once again studied the linoleum floor; yellow, black, and a brown color. The same color of his eyes. Tears began to fall as she gently picked up the big bottle of pills. Taking a few of the white pills out of the bottle, she studied those also. As she went to put them in her mouth, the phone rang. Let the answering machine pick it up, she thought. And as she put the pills in her mouth, a very familiar voice started to speak.
"It's me. Everything is so screwy right now and so very messed up. I'm so messed up that I don't know anything. Well, anything but you. The very idea of being without you for the rest of my life is scary. So scary that I'm not sure that I could live without you and your knowledge and skill and everything else that makes you what you are. Please call me. Please forgive me. Most of all, please still love me." BEEP.
Her quiet crying had now turned into sobs as she spit out the pills and rushed to the phone. She dialed the oh-so-familiar number and listened as it rang a few times.
"Hello?" A quiet voice asked.
"It's me. You called me."
"Can you ever forgive me? I'm so sorry that I was so mean and didn't think about you and your feelings at all."
"I didn't think I could live without you. I was dying inside. I don't think you realize how much you saved me when you called. Can you come over?"
"I'll be there in five minutes. Don't move a muscle, ok?"