Another one

Here's another story. It's very rough- a first draft. It's somewhat fucked up.


Lying face down in the snow, she realized she could drown. The idea dawned upon her in far too an appealing way and she knew it. Most who lost their life in the snow froze to death. Never had she heard of an individual who choked on snow until her demise, lungs flooded by melted droplets of once frozen rain. Her body heat would surely melt the snow enough for this to happen. She had a college education.

The girl knew she just needed to wait. Minutes passed and she continued to breathe into the snow. It was cold and it was dark. It made her face hurt. She wondered if anyone would see her. She wondered if anyone would know she had done this intentionally when she was found, hours, perhaps days, later. Should she leave a note? She wondered if she was the first to have ever died this sort of intentional death.

And then a thought that had haunted and depressed her since she had first conceived it entered her mind. Nothing she could ever think would be something that had never been thought before. Every one of her thoughts, another already had. There was no such thing as original thought for someone like her. This had to do with her intelligence and the timeliness of her life. Brilliant inventors, decades ago, had to race to patent and publicize their revolutionary ideas and devices before someone else equally brilliant and innovative beat them to it. And even then, a more brilliant but less innovative individual may have had the seemingly new idea first. She knew, being a girl of average IQ who had done average things within the context of her life, that she would never have an original thought. She was very self-aware.

She thus concluded that she had not been the first to die intentionally in this manner. It was likely that she would belong to a smaller group of dead individuals, but death is the great equalizer, anyway.

But what if when people found her, they thought her death tragic? That she had slipped and fallen unconscious and suffocated unintentionally in the snow or worse, frozen to death, like so many others. Perhaps she should leave a note. She wanted people to know; she wanted credit. She chose to lie face down. She chose to melt the snow with her breath and slurp the puddle into her lungs. She did not fall like a clumsy idiot. And because of all this, life without her was the way it should be. The loss of her life was not tragic. It was intended and okay.

Then, breathing more slowly than before, she heard her name. “Anna.” At first, “Anna” was muffled by the sound of her thoughts and the hood of her jacket. She froze and stopped breathing. She waited to hear it again.

“Anna?”

The voice was inquisitive and curious. The voice was male.

Without an acknowledged thought, she pulled her face out of the snow. The winter air stung her cheeks, upon which melted snow burned a deep, fiery blush. Tiny icicles shattered from the lashes of her eyes as she broke them open. Looking up in a daze, she saw him. Her latest let-down. Her latest heartache. He was standing over her.

He shouldn’t matter and she knew this. Everyone around her knew this. She knew they knew because they told her so. But she was a fool. She was so very self-aware.

He pulled her to her feet. He held her by the shoulders and looked at her. Her blushing cheeks turned her pale skin into porcelain. The dark hair that framed her face made the blue eyes peering out from beneath her hood piercing and breathtaking. Her lips, chapped by the snow, were red and plump. She had never looked more beautiful. And, being a young boy under the influence of exciting hormones, he had never wanted her more. In that moment, the coldness he had shown her these past months melted away. He was in love.

She was delicate.

Taking her in his arms, he pulled her into him. Her face pressed against his chest, he embraced her with all the warmth and power of a man that he possessed. And moments later, her body went limp. He had suffocated her.

This was not intentional.

Oh, the loss of young life in love-
how fragile,
how, very,
tragic.