I wish I could rewind everything. But from where would I start? If only, we could rewind in life, life would be so much better; but, irony is, we tend to think about it only when we are on the verge of hitting the ground.
Would I feel anything at all? I wondered how it would feel when I hit the ground. Within seconds, I would hit the ground, and even my thoughts would die then. The ground seemed too far and very close at the same time. I could feel the freedom of falling. My dress fluttered like a butterfly. My long hair covered my eyes as I twisted and turned in the air. I couldn’t feel any sensation; I floated like a lifeless soul being pulled by gravity. My heart couldn’t feel any emotion; it was too hurt. My back didn’t hurt any more. The fall gave an unexplainable feeling of adrenalin rushing through me. The view I had as I descended down to earth was the most beautiful scenery I had ever seen; it was the last scenery too. It took me a few seconds to realize what had happened, and that there was nothing I could do than accept my destiny. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I know they will not even be able to find or trace where my body would be. I had no doubt that the fall was going to be fatal. I closed my eyes. I kept seeing my husband’s face in my mind and I couldn’t help but feel sad. His eyes told me how much he had been hurt too. As I fell, I could see him looking at me with the most pained eyes I have ever seen. My fingers graced his fingers as I fell into the void. His grip loosened and he left my hand. I didn’t have to fall to die; I felt I already died right then. There was nothing that could be said after this; it was just too late. He didn’t say anything nor did I say anything. His stare in all its depth conveyed to me how much he loved me and how hurt he was. He took a pause; looked at me; stared into my eyes.
His hand was grabbing my hand with complete grip; he had full control. He grabbed out and caught my hand. The grip on my hand slipped slowly from the railing that I was holding on to. I couldn’t hold on to it any longer, as I didn’t have the strength. I caught the railing in an attempt to reach out and grab something. I lost my balance and I fell over the balcony. My head swayed and I lost control. I didn’t know which scar was deeper. I didn’t know which pain was more. I put my hand on my back, but the pain didn’t stop. I could feel my whole life spinning in an ocean of dizziness. It was the first time in all these years, that my husband didn’t say a word when I was in pain. He just kept staring at me. As I stood still, the bits and pieces of paper thrown at me sprayed light on what had just happened. He tore them slowly and threw them at my face. He took a yellow envelope, a few photos and a letter from his coat pocket. He walked a few feet away from me. He slowly removed his grip from around me. He held me closer to him. His eyes were replying answers to the questions my eyes asked. His face was stiff devoid of any emotions at all. I lifted my head to see his face, as if to ask why. I moved my hand slowly behind to see what was causing the pain; I felt the handle of a knife. I felt immobilized. I could feel the pain tearing inside me. I felt a small prick which turned into an unbearable pain. He held me close with both hands around me. I had my hands around him, and my head on his shoulder. We danced slowly at the same place; it was heavenly. I don’t remember the last time, I felt this way. This might as well be my last dance with him, so I wanted to get the maximum joy of it. If it had to end this way, it was meant to end this way. I was sorry, but there was nothing I could do about it. I didn’t want to change my mind. What I decided must be the correct decision. Though, it felt wrong, I didn’t want to change the course of my actions. Once the ball was set rolling, it would stop only if it hits something. The winds added grace to the most romantic day we ever had in a long time. The house being on the edge of a mountain brought the best winds imaginable. It was a beautiful and windy night. With slow steps, slowly we danced our way to the balcony. We danced like never before. We twirled and twirled to the music. Though I couldn’t see his face, I was sure he must have been smiling. We kept dancing without a single word from each other. We circled around in the hall, around the furniture; as if we were dancing among trees in a garden. We did a few small steps; after which I held on to him more closely. I placed my hand on his hand. I was surprised at his gesture, after such a tiring day at office. He asked for my hand to dance. He smiled. He took the glass from my hand and placed it on the table. I offered him the glass of wine. I walked in from the kitchen. I placed the wine glass back in the fridge. The volume went up and I could hear the song well from the kitchen itself. I could hear him going through a series of songs and selecting the first song to which we danced. He switched on the music player. I put the paper in the dustbin. I turned around to see if he was anywhere close by to be seen. I mixed the contents well. I emptied the contents of the paper to his wine glass alone. I peeped from the kitchen to see if he was noticing or sensing anything; he wasn’t; he was just walking around the room talking on the phone. I poured wine to both the glasses. I took the crumbled paper that I hid behind the cooking utensils. I checked where he was. I took the glasses and placed them on the table and took the wine bottle from the fridge. I walked into the kitchen; hoping everything was going as per my plan, and wondering if I did anything suspicious for him to notice. He nodded and smiled. In the hall, I asked him if he wanted anything to drink. He was very tired. He just dropped his briefcase and his loosened his tie. I opened the door and my husband walked right in. The door bell rang, shattering my dream. I dreamt of the days ahead with my boy friend. This would be my final wrong doing. Instead of living a life doing wrong every day, it would be best to do one final wrong and end it once and for all. I just lay in the sofa thinking how life would be after this. I knew I messed things up beyond control. I watched from the window waiting for him. I took some time to go through each and every photo on the table. I was wondering, in how many of them I was smiling, and in how many of them was I faking. I walked across the study table. I placed the book in my usual hiding place. I got up and took the book to the shelf. I placed the yellow envelope containing the letter, photos and the flight tickets. I held the photos of my boyfriend in my hand and wondering if I was doing the right thing and if it was really worth it; but as they say, everything is fair in love and war. I hung up on the call. I assured my boyfriend that everything would go per plan and that it would look like the perfect suicide and that with his body falling over such a distance, they might not be able to find the body for quite a few days, so the poison would not show up for investigation. I just finished writing the suicide letter, when the phone rang. I was content that months of practicing his hand writing had its fruit. I carefully wrote the contents so as to not leave any doubt on me. I took the paper from his study and sat on the chair nearby. I headed straight from the balcony to the study table. From the balcony, I stared down into the void. I could not stop myself from thinking of the fall he would have to take because of me.
His hand was grabbing my hand with complete grip; he had full control. He grabbed out and caught my hand. The grip on my hand slipped slowly from the railing that I was holding on to. I couldn’t hold on to it any longer, as I didn’t have the strength. I caught the railing in an attempt to reach out and grab something. I lost my balance and I fell over the balcony. My head swayed and I lost control. I didn’t know which scar was deeper. I didn’t know which pain was more. I put my hand on my back, but the pain didn’t stop. I could feel my whole life spinning in an ocean of dizziness. It was the first time in all these years, that my husband didn’t say a word when I was in pain. He just kept staring at me. As I stood still, the bits and pieces of paper thrown at me sprayed light on what had just happened. He tore them slowly and threw them at my face. He took a yellow envelope, a few photos and a letter from his coat pocket. He walked a few feet away from me. He slowly removed his grip from around me. He held me closer to him. His eyes were replying answers to the questions my eyes asked. His face was stiff devoid of any emotions at all. I lifted my head to see his face, as if to ask why. I moved my hand slowly behind to see what was causing the pain; I felt the handle of a knife. I felt immobilized. I could feel the pain tearing inside me. I felt a small prick which turned into an unbearable pain. He held me close with both hands around me. I had my hands around him, and my head on his shoulder. We danced slowly at the same place; it was heavenly. I don’t remember the last time, I felt this way. This might as well be my last dance with him, so I wanted to get the maximum joy of it. If it had to end this way, it was meant to end this way. I was sorry, but there was nothing I could do about it. I didn’t want to change my mind. What I decided must be the correct decision. Though, it felt wrong, I didn’t want to change the course of my actions. Once the ball was set rolling, it would stop only if it hits something. The winds added grace to the most romantic day we ever had in a long time. The house being on the edge of a mountain brought the best winds imaginable. It was a beautiful and windy night. With slow steps, slowly we danced our way to the balcony. We danced like never before. We twirled and twirled to the music. Though I couldn’t see his face, I was sure he must have been smiling. We kept dancing without a single word from each other. We circled around in the hall, around the furniture; as if we were dancing among trees in a garden. We did a few small steps; after which I held on to him more closely. I placed my hand on his hand. I was surprised at his gesture, after such a tiring day at office. He asked for my hand to dance. He smiled. He took the glass from my hand and placed it on the table. I offered him the glass of wine. I walked in from the kitchen. I placed the wine glass back in the fridge. The volume went up and I could hear the song well from the kitchen itself. I could hear him going through a series of songs and selecting the first song to which we danced. He switched on the music player. I put the paper in the dustbin. I turned around to see if he was anywhere close by to be seen. I mixed the contents well. I emptied the contents of the paper to his wine glass alone. I peeped from the kitchen to see if he was noticing or sensing anything; he wasn’t; he was just walking around the room talking on the phone. I poured wine to both the glasses. I took the crumbled paper that I hid behind the cooking utensils. I checked where he was. I took the glasses and placed them on the table and took the wine bottle from the fridge. I walked into the kitchen; hoping everything was going as per my plan, and wondering if I did anything suspicious for him to notice. He nodded and smiled. In the hall, I asked him if he wanted anything to drink. He was very tired. He just dropped his briefcase and his loosened his tie. I opened the door and my husband walked right in. The door bell rang, shattering my dream. I dreamt of the days ahead with my boy friend. This would be my final wrong doing. Instead of living a life doing wrong every day, it would be best to do one final wrong and end it once and for all. I just lay in the sofa thinking how life would be after this. I knew I messed things up beyond control. I watched from the window waiting for him. I took some time to go through each and every photo on the table. I was wondering, in how many of them I was smiling, and in how many of them was I faking. I walked across the study table. I placed the book in my usual hiding place. I got up and took the book to the shelf. I placed the yellow envelope containing the letter, photos and the flight tickets. I held the photos of my boyfriend in my hand and wondering if I was doing the right thing and if it was really worth it; but as they say, everything is fair in love and war. I hung up on the call. I assured my boyfriend that everything would go per plan and that it would look like the perfect suicide and that with his body falling over such a distance, they might not be able to find the body for quite a few days, so the poison would not show up for investigation. I just finished writing the suicide letter, when the phone rang. I was content that months of practicing his hand writing had its fruit. I carefully wrote the contents so as to not leave any doubt on me. I took the paper from his study and sat on the chair nearby. I headed straight from the balcony to the study table. From the balcony, I stared down into the void. I could not stop myself from thinking of the fall he would have to take because of me.
I wish I could rewind everything. But from where would I start? If only, we could rewind in life, life would be so much better; but, irony is, we tend to think about it only when we are on the verge of hitting the ground.
I love to read this... It's toooooo good
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