A/N: I know I know. I should be updating Pen Pals… and I will! I just was bored and this was the product. The woman is not named so it could be Sharpay or Gabriella or even Taylor or Kelsi. I got this idea from a numbers episode and I changed it around some. This was really something I did quick so I'm sorry if it's short and sucky… but I'd thought I post it anyway.
The woman sighed softly. She couldn't believe this had happened… she heard it happen to others, but never her or anyone she knew. Tears leaked from her eyes, spilling onto the bloodstained sweater lying in front of her. She lay back on her pillows, willing this all to go away. So much had happened in the past two weeks… it felt like years.
Two weeks ago she was a normal person. Two hours ago she had no reason to cry. Two hours ago she best friend and fiancé wasn't dead.
Flash back:
It happened so fast. She and Troy were just having lunch and then a couple snipers ran in and demanded that everyone drop to the floor and give them their wallets and cell phones. But Troy refused and pulled his gun to defend himself and everyone else and another shooter that he didn't see shot him right in the heart. Everything seemed to freeze for a second and all I could hear was my screams of anguish. She threw myself onto him, soaking her sweater with his blood. I don't remember if he died immediately… but she hoped so.
The next several hours were hell. Police officers were swarming everywhere, asking her questions about everything. All she wanted to do was go home and cry… but because Troy was a policeman, everything was so difficult. She finally was allowed to go home after watching her only love being loaded into an ambulance in a black bag.
Nothing seemed right after that. She never slept, and avoided everyone's calls. She didn't eat, she just sat in their, her, room and cried all day and stared at the ceiling at night.
Three days after he was killed, his funeral was held. She walked behind the coffin, dressed in full black and a mourning veil. She only sat and stared blankly during the service and didn't talk to anyone afterwards. When he was buried she sat at his grave for hours, talking to him and crying softly. No matter what anyone tried to do, she built up her walls and blocked them all out.
Present time:
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block everything out. She wished it would all go away… that when she opened her eyes again it would have been a dream, he would still be there sleeping next to her. But the woman knew that that wasn't going to happen. Opening her eyes, she wiped her tears and slid off the bed and padded across the cold floor into the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror. The woman she saw was not the woman that she knew. The woman she saw had red rimmed eyes and hair that was tangled and lank. The woman she saw had a tortured look on her face and a tormented gleam in her eyes. She ran her hands over her face and looked away from that woman that was reflected in the mirror. That was not she… or so she liked to believe. But in her heart she knew that that was she but not for long.
She sat on the hard edge of the bathtub, looking at the razor that was sitting on the shelf there. She closed her eyes again, pinching them shut. Her body shuddered and she opened her eyes again, reaching out for the razor. She stood and walked out to the bed where the sweater with her lover's bloodstained in it. Shrugging it on, she sat against the pillows bunched against the headboard. Lifting the razor up, she dragged it across her wrist slowly, watching the blood ooze from the slit. Oddly though, she felt no pain, only a rush of happiness. She was going to see Troy again. She wouldn't have to see people's looks of pity and sadness when they saw her. She was going to leave this hell that those shooters had created. She dragged the razor across her wrist again, pressing harder and drawing it deeper. When she saw the blood gushing she knew she had hit the vein and she had little time to live. She leaned over and picked up a pad of paper that had been lying on her bedside table and scrawled a quick not, blood dotting it.
To everyone and whoever finds me-I assume that you know why I've killed myself. I am nothing without Troy and I cannot go own without him. I loved him and now I will be with him. I hope that none of you judge me too much, I'm sure you just don't understand my pain. I am now growing weak and I must end my letter to you. I am sorry for the pain that is caused to you, and I hope you can forgive me.
She laid the letter down next to her and lay back on the pillows, closing her eyes and sighing for the last time.