Author's Note: To the regular Flight 29 Down readers- I am sorry to have taken down Remembered. I hope you enjoy this piece as well. To Fireplacians-This is the Mel I took my penname from. Also, I look forward to reading all of your entries.
The gray streaks running through what remained of her black hair, the deep set wrinkles of her sagging face, the enlarged pupils sunken deep in permanently dreary eyes, all meant the same thing. Melissa Wu was old. Very old. Old and alone. Erik Erikson had said that the greatest goal the elderly could achieve was acceptance of death. If Melissa believed anything as she had come closer to today, it was exactly that. She wasn't sure what had prompted her to think about that theory, perhaps there was some truth to the notion that people sensed their own impending demise. She still found it foolish, but since she was in that frame of mind...
"Why not prepare?" she said aloud, voicing her thoughts to but a room of empty air. But what was she to do? Many people chose prayer or the confessional, but solving it with religion did not seem right for her. For one, she had not been to any type of service in years. She sat there in thought until she realized she had hardly been anywhere in years. Where had it gone downhill?
"With Jackson," she concurred. Yes, Jackson had been the hardest loss she had ever faced. They married early, and life was good. He pursued music under Melissa's blessing. "I told him to go for it. I shouldn't have." But she had. His career had gone well, and his fame grew. He ended up being shot by a crazed drunken fan.
She grew bitter and angry. Jealous of her friends, who back then were just finding lasting romantic relationships. The slight of them as happy budding couples had only brought more pain. Her closest friends worked hard at dealing with Melissa's depression, but she continued to push them away. "I told them to leave me alone. That they could never understand. I told them to find a new friend." And they did. Slowly and reluctantly, but they did.
"I wonder what they are doing now? Better yet, I wonder what my parents are doing now?" Her parents had chosen to live a religious devotional life in the countryside, back in their Asian homeland. They begged Melissa to go with them, but she would not hear of it. She couldn't seem to leave the Hartwell area. Sights of her former life, her childhood. She needed them, despite the pain she felt by being there. It was as if she had to be there waiting for him to come home. So she lied to her parents. "I told them it was their thing. That I did not want to leave. I told them they were not important enough."
Without her love, friends, or family, Melissa continued to spiral downward. She left her support group. "I told them they were not helping." Perhaps they had been the only thing that could have. She left the house now only to eat. "That's not necessary today, is it?" She knew the answer. Silly or not, she could tell this was her last day on earth. She moved towards her bed and lay down. "Jackson, Mom, Dad, everyone." She breathed in and out. Letting it go. Letting them go. Letting life go.
"If I knew it would end like this, I never would have told you."