Helen put her head down on the table. Yup, she was definitely screwed. At, least she was still two steps ahead of the team. She couldn't even find a reason for why she did what she did or for why she was about to do what she was about to do. She didn't feel bad about it, nor did she have any regrets or feel any hesitation. She was thankful for the extra few minutes supplied to her between interrogations as the team tried to "break" her.
The room itself was a four-wall room with no windows or video cameras, like normal interrogation rooms. The door was locked from the outside. The notable feature in the room was a row of bars around the top connecting the walls to the ceilings. She had always thought it was rather odd, but it was what it was. She would definitely be using the odd décor to her advantage. Another thing she was using to her advantage was the town of Smithsburg itself; everyone in the town always half-assed everything.
She took out her black, cloth purse and pulled out the last bit of her parchment, her quill, and an inkwell of actual ink. She penned a message neatly in her antiquated cursive and then slipped it into an envelope. It suddenly dawned on her just how lax the security system really was.
Once she finished sealing the envelope she listened for footsteps. To her surprise they were still making her wait; such a pity for them. She took out her knife and slit open her own wrist with one swift movement. She dipped the quill into the laceration and began to right her final poem. This time it was one of her own creation. It read:
Save my love for
A prettier day
Where
Even a
Bird could sing and go unknowing
That never to be again
Is this reality known to him
This odd reality which has
Never deceived him
That is until now, being
The moment I dolefully say goodbye
Though there was a bit of meaning in the work of prose, it was really meant as a way to address the person whom she wanted to read the letter first. She sat there listening for footsteps yet again. This would certainly be an awkward moment for someone to walk in to interrogate her again. She knew she had to work quickly. She took out a rope, the final content of her purse, and tried to tie a noose with it. It took her a couple of tries but she eventually succeeded. Then she tied the other end to a bar at the top of the room. She had to stand on top of the table to do this but luckily there was no way for anyone to see what was going on within the room.
She got down from the table and cleaned up her belongings, leaving the envelope in a conspicuous location. She then moved a chair underneath the spot where the noose was hanging. She was finally going to do it. The one thing she had set out to do all along. The one thing she had never thought about doing until the first day she saw that apparition instructing her to do so. She knew she should've told somebody about it to get the help she needed, but the hallucinations told her not to do that.
Helen Marks was finally in position. She had climbed onto the very edge of the chair and had situated the noose snuggly around her neck. She counted to three and then jumped. She felt all the life leaving her body as she focused on her final thought: the look on the FBI agent's faces when they walked in to see a bloodied and dead suspect who never had to pay the time for her crimes.
A/N: Incredibly short but whatever I'm tired. I hope you liked it. Reviews!
