today, suicide of a different sort.

when she climbed to the top of the hill, she looked down but couldn't see anything. her flapping scarf was trying to cling to her face as the wind breathed again. she had decided that today was a perfect day for suicide, like any other day. she just didn't have access to any other day.

even if the wind hadn't pushed so strongly and her scarf had not tried to choke and blind her, she would not have seen anything from the top of the hill. she had imagined this scene in her mind beforehand, and had promised herself that she would take that ultimate step to nowhere with no hesitation. not like she had a choice. the hill itself was sliding, breaking, and sinking.

"oh...i guess this is it."

she took a step, having lost her footing under the crumbling rocks.

and she fell.

and fell.

and fell.

and shortly after she thought she had stopped falling, she realized she was actually still falling, and probably would never stop falling. she looked at her passing surroundings with indifference now; she knew she would never stop moving to be able to look at things for longer than a moment. she would see blurs, not understand the blurs, and then, not care about the blurs.

"they are only blurs. nothing more."

~suicide of a different sort, part 1?