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They were dead.
As her voice flitted inside her mind with the same statement, over and over again, it sounded metallic. Dead, like her parents. What were they now? Corpses buried deep beneath the earth. The remainders of their bodies rotting away. She had buried them herself, there was no one to help her. And even if someone had offered, she would have refused. Her parents were all that had ever permanently belonged to her. She was selfish and unwilling to share them with anyone else. But they were gone now.
Dead.
Dead.
Dead.
How stupid. That was the only thing that made sense in her mind. Why did they die anyway? Weren't people supposed to die when they greedy or evil? No, of course. She was wrong, because her parents were neither. She never appreciated them, never really told them that she loved them. Of course there was the occasional hug or kiss, but all so quick. So quick that as she tried to snatch the sensation from her mind she could not.
Unfair.
Why couldn't she have died? Why couldn't she be comfortable in the darkness and sleep forever? Her parents left her...
Alone.
Her mother had once told her that the love between her and her parents would never die.
"It's wilting mom, it's dying..."
Her voice was raspy, her throat stung.
Binka dared to laugh. In the darkness that was her room, it sounded like another person. She licked her lips and with her fist tried to wipe away the tears that refuse to discontinue. Her efforts were futile, it seemed like the stench of sadness would mark her forever. In the midst of her muddle thoughts it came to her. A light so sudden that it took a moment for her mind to wrap itself around the idea.
She had always led a life of poverty amongst her parents. It had a simple, content life. There was no struggle of riches or fights fueled by pride. Her mother had loved her, her father had doted upon her -- it was intangible.
Or so she had thought.
Her parents were dead now, and all of a sudden every frame of familiarity had collapsed. All strangers were unkind, and Binka knew that becoming a beggar would lead to certain death. And all the while her parents were safe, asleep, in the comfortable darkness...
So why couldn't she die too? Why couldn't she shut everything and everyone out? It would be a perfect end to all her problems, wouldn't it?
Yes!
A surge of excitement crept through her. But then, how to do it?
Binka giggled madly.
How to die? A topic she never thought she would contemplate. But here it was, it was such a gift! Who, after all, ever had the opportunity to choose how to die?
A blade, one single stroke against her arm and then poof! She could enjoy the feel of her blood trailing down her skin, wondering what to say next to her parents. Or perhaps a dive into the river. She'd close her eyes and forget about resurfacing. Her lungs would scream in protest, but she would quiet them...
Binka stood, her legs failed her and she tumbled to the floor. She closed her eyes. The floor was cold, but it felt good against her hot skin. She decided to sleep once more. She was too tired to take the plunge today, she'd let her parents get ready for her arrival.
Yes, that was it. She was not afraid.
There was plenty of time to die, after all.
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