Time passes by so quickly. A second, a minute, an hour, then a day, week, months, then a year. But in this moment, It feels like time has stopped, timeless and unstoppable. Its so beautiful, the city, the tall buildings, landscapes and who even knew It would feel like this. To fall, to taste death with your own tongue and feel it clench around your throat. It wraps around your heart and makes you feel helpless. But I don't feel helpless, I feel free and unstoppable.
The wind tears through me like a chainsaw, and with it it takes all the doubt and care of what I'm leaving behind. And to just think about it, I feel like the wind has taken with it the prison bars that I've been standing behind all this years. The bars that stood in place as people kept passing by with their cameras pointed at me and flashing. As they made comments and pointed and made me pose and pout for them.
I'm falling a thousand feet down, and all I can think about is the freedom of finally letting go. That even after all these years I'm going to die without anyone ever looking at me and saying I'm a brilliant woman. And not for my looks but for my brain.
So yes, I am free, free from this wretched world that has forced everything to be looked at from the perspective of superficiality. In my next life, I want to be ugly, I want to have all the undesirable features that no one would ever wish for. Maybe I'm stupid for wanting that but I've seen how the greener side of the grass looks like so to hell with it. I want to be bolder and known for my brain.
Oh and Dave. Poor Dave who gets to watch me die. No, but he's just like the rest of them, the rest who look at me and think I'm all looks, with my pretty boobs and ass. So fuck him too and the money I pay him to pretend he gives a fuck about me. And frankly, I'm glad he gets me to watch me die. He's like a symbolic representation of everyone who's ever looked at me and pitied me because they think nothing gets past my pretty face. Fuck him, fuck them all.
Am I gone yet? I wake up and stare at the street in front of me, they are all standing there just looking at me like I'm some ghost. Well, I can't even blame them at this point I'm in a bikini. The same way they see me in magazines. I stare down at my feet. Oh, I don't have my shoes, I shuffle a few feet back and my eyebrows shoot up my face. I imagine that I would feel an immense amount of pain but my ability to do so is gone.
My body, flaccid and mangled on the side of the street. I look so peaceful though, my bloody face looks so peaceful. I imagine that in this moment my human self would smile. Blood is cascading down what used to be my perfectly toned back, my arms spread out wide as if embracing the fucking concrete. Its almost like I was going to dive into the underworld myself. I wouldn't put it past me given the life I'd lived. So I muster what I imagine to be a smile and start to walk away.
I'm free.
I take a few steps and turn my face towards what a few seconds ago was my rooftop. I can still see him up there. Dave. The look of distraught on his face is what I imagine will be my managers face, and all my previous lovers' faces, and all the men and maybe women who satisfy themselves to my images. As the realization that their daily dose of candy has been taken away from them hits. That somehow the little dose of serotonin I contributed to their body producing will no longer be there. So I smile wider. Turn my face to the beautiful sunset shimmering in the distance, and make my way through the throng of concerned people milling around my body, and set off into the beautiful light.