Victoria Grayson is flawless. She can make a room light up, her friendly laugh, glittering eyes, and beautiful smile are enough to make any body like her. No one would ever be able to guess that she was a victim of emotional distress. As she stared out of the frosted glass of her living room window in to the cold winter morning, she had never felt more alone and alone was something she felt very often. Victoria came to a realization in that very moment as she watched the sparking snow fall to the ground. She was on her own. Completely and with that thought her mind spun around. Gears that usually drove her were unable to form a proper thought, and so her heart broke. It broke into a million pieces because she knows that loving anyone be her kids or Conrad is impossible. Victoria is strong, but even the strongest of people are unable to avoid the inevitable truth. She is dying. And die she must. Her eyes clouded with the dust of a life gone by. The happy times she had in her life, surrounded by joy and relieved of frustration and darkness. It was almost like she has never lived it. Like she has never experienced real joy and real love. Like no man ever actually thought she was beautiful, or if they did it was because they wanted her for their own vanity, their own selfish pride. She hates what she has become. She hates that when she looks in the mirror she just wants to kill herself out of pure anger and out of the thought that she's just not good enough... for anyone. She could just see it now, her limp body hanging from her closet door. Or blood everywhere as she lay unconscious on her bed with gashes in her wrists a shiny blade thrown askew next to her dying person. Who would come running, she thought. Who would cry over her deceased body begging her to come back? Who would shake her until their arms were sore, and heart and given up? No one she thought. No one at all.
She could vaguely hear footsteps behind her as she tried to piece herself back together. Which at this point was hard to do. Soon enough the footsteps stopped at a scuff.
"Well dear. It looks like you could use some company." It was Conrad. Of course it was Conrad. Victoria rolled her eyes, glittering with tears. Turning around to answer him was not something she was about to do. Why? Because she knows for a fact that he would never come running.
"No Conrad. That's the last thing I need right now." Victoria responded direct and dignified. She was just not in the mood.
Conrad walked into Victoria's room without a care in the world. He always did. It never crossed his conceited mind that one day his wife might not be there to dish out his daily dose of hell on. But before he could say anything he saw Victoria on her bed with an empty shiny orange bottle clasped gently her hand. Her eyelids were closed delicately, both hands placed on her stomach in a restful position. It took his ignorant brain to piece the puzzle together but after a few silent moments he figured it out. He wasn't that stupid.
With that Conrad dropped to his knees desperate to wake the fallen brunette. He took her limp body by the shoulders and shook her. "Victoria!" He screamed. "Victoria, what have you done?!" He screamed more, his tormented cries echoing through the mansion walls. How does it feel now, to watch it burn?
The, oh so familiar sounds of the hospital lingered in Conrad's broken mind as he attempted to compose a legitimate thought. How long had he been there? Minutes? Hours? Days? He actually had no concept of any of those things at the moment, and feared he never would again. Why did she do this he thought. She hadn't even left a note. She hadn't even said goodbye, or stated a feeling.
"Mr. Grayson?" Conrad shot up, this was the moment of truth. "Well… Mr. Grayson… it's a miracle." Conrad seemed to sigh and laugh at the same time, out of joy, anger, and relief. "She's ok?" The doctor tilted his head to the side formulating an appropriate response. "Ok… isn't exactly the way I would put it." The doctor paused, hoping that Conrad wouldn't ask any more questions yet knowing that wasn't the truth.
"Your wife took approximately 30 tablets of Prozac. This is serious. Your wife was a second away from passing. She's actually a miracle."
A smile graced Conrad's face. He knew it. She was a fighter.