Goosebumps rise on my skin, disgust clear on my face as I judge my body in the cracked mirror.
He left you because of this, he didn't want to be with you because of this.
Now I understand- I see why he left me for the tall, slim woman who I used to know as my best friend. It's because I'm not beautiful like she is.
I'm stick thin and petite- not in a pretty way.
My breasts are small and my eyes are dull and gray. My hair is stringy and matted- it's shine has gone and has been replaced with string. Ugly, sad, string.
I have no curves to speak of- every part of me is thin and bony.
I hate myself.
I have never been with a man before- I fear the pain too much, it's too hard for me to give up one of the only things that is truly mine.
The mirror shatters and glass covers the wooden floor, my fist becoming caked with blood as I swallow back tears.
I unclench my fist, trying hard to calm myself.
Now my reflection is more ugly than before- parts of my body sticking out, my shoulder looking dislocated, my neck out of place and my eyes full of fear towards the creature I see in the mirror.
But the creature is me- I'm going to have to accept that.
The sand is cold and soft against my feet and between my toes as I run toward the beach, the tide rolling up the sand and then falling back down again.
The water is freezing, and my goosebumps return.
I ignore the icy cold feel of the water and wade slowly into the depths of the ocean, feeling myself coming closer to death with each step I take.
The moon shines bright and a cool breeze blows my hair around as the freezing cold water reaches my waist.
I take a deep breath, turning to face my old house, studying it one last time. The windows are cracked and I have no front door.
I remember when he brought me here, blind-folding me and, when he revealed the beautiful beach cottage, I had nearly fainted at the sight of it.
Now it was ugly, rotting- dead.
Dead like I soon would be too.
I slowly let myself sink into the water, the hair on my neck standing on end before finally the water was up to my neck.
I feel the arms of the ocean beckoning to me to let my whole body sink and let the ocean carry me till death.
I breathe out once deeply, bringing my head under the water.
The sight I see is extraordinary- the moon is shining, the water laps up to the surface of the beack before rolling back down again.
Black spots cover my vision and my sight becomes fuzzy, a cough rising up in my throat from the sea water that goes up my nose.
I refuse to bring myself back to the surface- I need this, I need to feel peace.
As I slowly let myself be carried away by the ocean, one final thought crosses my mind- if only he had stayed.
© Copyright 2016 Wicked Beautiful. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Romance
Short Story / Mystery and Crime
Poem / Poetry
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