“It’s okay. We still have each other tonight.”
At least those are the words he would have said. If he was still around. Two tragic losses within a span of two weeks. It’s was like Santa’s job this Christmas was to take all her joy away.
First the car accident. Then came the death of her unborn child.
Ho ho ho
She stared poignantly out the window to the busy sidewalks across from her apartment in the city center. People were scrambling across the sidewalks, trying to catch cabs and buses. Everybody was trying to make it back home in time for their Christmas eve dinners.
Not her though. She was already home, lonely and alone, in her lovely apartment built for three but now only housed one. It could have been her. Rushing through the crowd. Arms full of gifts for her husband and their little one. Not this winter.
The only thing she held on to this Christmas fit in the palm of her hands. They were in her tightly clenched first – small, white, and shiny.
Painless. It’s the fastest and easiest path to happiness. That’s what the haggard looking street peddler told her earlier tonight. Pain would have been the least of her concerns tonight.
She started to cry again, but no tears ran down her cheeks. ‘All cried out’, they would say. She didn’t care and continued her dry sobs.
She got up from her window seat and made her way across the living room, into the room which was designated for her child. She flicked on the light switch, which illuminated an empty crib with soft toys never to be played with.
She left the room and walked into the bedroom she had shared with her husband. It was as she had left it two weeks ago. Clothes on the floor, sheets in a mess, closet doors open – she hadn’t gone back in since that night she rushed to the hospital to see him. His scent still lingered in the room, though it could have just been her imagination.
She walked into the kitchen, still clutching the pills in her hand. She poured herself a cup of water, carelessly, spilling it all over the counter.
If god was so intent on making her feel miserable, she felt that the least she could do was to spit in his face by taking away her own life before he took it himself. After all, she had nothing else to live for.
‘Merry Christmas. See you soon.’ she said to herself as she raised the pills to her mouth.
Writing Prompt from Reddit: It’s nearing Christmas, a woman at three months pregnant miscarries.