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Life Directions
3:38 AMSitting at the ledge, she let her legs dangle and swing. Way below were illuminating lights from passing motorists and cars. The night brought a gentle, cooling breeze and it lightly swept her hair backwards. Her lips curved and her eyes closed, depicting the serenity she felt. This was it. This is what life have come to and she had finally reached the conclusion.
"Tara!" Shocked, surprised, or pained, she could not tell. One thing's for sure, the voice was a little too high pitched and sharp for a time like this. She allowed herself to be brought out from the calm, her eyes fluttered open and searched for the source.
As expected, his face showed a multitude of concern, surprise, worry even. His brows were pulled upward, eyes were widened and mouth was left ajar. It took a moment before it started moving again. "What do you think you're doing?"
Poor Daniel. She wanted to tell him how not to worry, that everything was okay. All confusion, worries and problems will be solved and be done with soon. Just that she could not find the energy to exercise her vocal chords. The serenity that enveloped her previously still held her body captive and her mind adrift from the world inside the apartment. The bright, colourful apartment that she and him furnished together- built a life together.
"Please," he spoke again, a tinge of desperation. "Whatever it is, we can talk about it. We'll figure it out."
"It's already been figured out, Dan," she gave a simple smile.
He shook his head, his brows pulled together. She saw him inch just a little closer toward the balcony. "No, not like this."
"My mind has already been made up."
"There's still space and time to rethink."
"It's been thought out, Dan. It's already been done." She unfolded the paper she held in her hands and set it on the small table that stood beside her.
"W-what do you mean?" This time he was frozen. Too afraid to move. The only reply he got back was her smile. She looked beautiful with that smile. He always loved her smile. Rows of perfect teeth, dimples on each side of her cheeks. Except this time, he was not graced with her beautiful green eyes that would light up whenever she smiled. It was sad, maybe a little judgemental. Then, the next thing he could recall was her hair. Those maroon strands that floated in the wind as she fell forward, out into the open, twenty feet space.
He did not know how he got the ledge. It was as if his body and his mind had separated. His hands were white with gripping the bar tight, his heart was pounding fast, he was sure he heard a really awful sound, only to realise later that it came from him. He did not know how long it was, or how it happened, but he felt a pair of hands grip his shoulders and turned him around. A pair of concerned eyes, which he thought looked oddly familiar, but he could only think of pleading with the person to save her or at least let him go so he could get to her. He managed to get out of the stranger's hold and ran towards the apartment door which coincidentally opened. Two men stepped in and headed towards him. They held him and locked his hands behind him.
"What are you doing?!" He shouted and struggled against their grip. "Let me get to her! Tara! TARA!"
"It's alright," said a voice. He felt a pinch on his arm, saw a syringe before everything went blur and then black.
Then it started, the nightmares, the hallucinations, the lack of motivation to do anything. He would always imagine that his beautiful model died multiple ways; car crash, stabbed by a snatch thief, drowned in the bathtub. Almost two weeks ago, she brought him in for consultation. She was tired and had enough of worrying for him. He was getting out of hand. Once his condition was confirmed, she signed him up to be admitted.
Two days ago she decided to break the news to him. It was smart enough of her to call us to standby in case anything happened. Before she could even tell him anything, he had one of his hallucinations. Ran to the balcony and kept shouting her name. Even the real person standing right beside him could not bring him out of it. When I stepped into their apartment he was delirious, even my two men struggled to hold him down. I had to administer an anesthetic. She was still by the balcony, too stunned to move. The forms were on the table. She never got to tell him about it. She said she sat on the ledge facing the apartment, waiting for him to wake up for dinner. Had wanted him to enjoy the cool night with her before she broke the news. She didn't think it would trigger him."
Both Dr. Newell and Elizabeth studied the couple. The man still chatted along happily, every once a while he would kiss the woman's hand that he held. It seemed as if he was completely oblivious that the woman's face held some kind of pain instead of interest in what he was telling her.
"She must love him a lot." Elizabeth commented.
"Well, she's having his child. Five weeks in. She was going to tell him that night."
"Oh," Elizabeth said in a small voice. "Must be such a hard time now."
As if on cue, the woman broke her composure, brought her head down on one of his shoulders and let out sobs that resonated even in the busy room.
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