Sarah's Joyous Death

by Johannas mirror

I had so much cathartic fun writing this. It's been four years since I did it, and you know what? I'm still every bit as immature and bratty as I was then. I still love this.

1. The Push

Yeah, I hate her. This isn't especially good writing, but it's fun. Hey, whatever I need to do, right?

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A mournful wind slid through the kerchif that hid the split-end free hair of Sarah Jacobs as she looked down from her lofty perch on the edge of the Brooklyn Bridge. Her limpid eyes were even wetter then usual in the foggy morning air, and she was pondering her life and the meaning of her existence.

(Captain obvious: You have no meaning. You should NOT exhist!)

"WOE, oh WOE IS ME!" Sarah cried melodramatically as the people continued to walk past. Each one was praying that she would just jump already. She had been there most of the morning, wailing, weeping, and generally carrying on. They were getting ready to fry whatever thoughtless author had decided to take out her substantial anger on the poor girl. That, or hurry her end along.

"They will miss me when I am gone!" she moaned, sounding suspiciously like a banshee. "When my lifeless cadaver washes up on the banks of the Upper New York Bay, they will weep for my semi-departed soul!" she paused for dramatic effect then continued, much to the ire of those trying to go about their business. "My brothers will mourn…well…Les might, and surely Jack, my true love, will be heart broken! But I can no longer live in such a world!"

(Captain obvious: Then why are you still here?)

A feminine sigh tore from between the girl's lips, chapped from being on the bridge all morning, as she steeled herself for the jump. Taking a dramatic step forward, she closed her eyes as though she would, any minuet, leap to her death. The expressions of those on the bridge lightened visibly.

Suddenly a strong hand shot out, pushing the Annoying Sarah Jacobs into a premature plummet to her death. A relieved sigh went up around the bridge, though being New Yorkers, no one made eye contact, as Spot Conlon dusted off his hands. "She was defaming my bridge." He muttered, though secretly, even the rough-and-tumble Spot had been ready to cut off his ears at the infernal racket.

Sara Jacobs is no more. Yay.

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Reviews/flames/whatever welcome. Please let me know.