That morning she didn’t expect to wake. In fact she’d planned to never awake again. It was sunny, her head hurt a little, but apart from the head hurt, it didn’t feel like much of a failed suicide attempt.
Her food was cold when she got around to eating it; to her surprise her appetite had made an unexpected reappearance. She enjoyed every bite, and things seemed to be better. She mused that perhaps all it took was the bravity of facing her own mortality without fear… it was only after she had cleared her plate that she decided to get up and face the day.
Her phone rang as she was about to open the door. Luckily she hadn’t, because her mother’s worried voice echoed as she listened, not able to coherently respond to the rehearsed delivery of bad news.
It was meant to be her death, instead… the other got it right.
That other with the brown eyes and childish smile.
The other with her favorite lips pasted on almost perfectly… that other… no longer existed.
Suddenly the tasty food re exited without warning and her head threw her almost instantly in her own vomit. She was waiting for tears, or a heart attack or something that was other than the empty vessel she now related to.
The other … memory.
The girl in room 3 had no pills left to drown her life in and bleeding out would take too long.
The girl in room 3 buried both herself and the other that instant. She cut out the struggles and with a new clarity she realized it would have been better to breathe before saying goodbye.