Staring into the broken mirror, Jane realized just how ugly she had become. Who was this wild-eyed person staring back at her? As she studied her reflection, she noticed her usually sleek flaming red hair, disheveled and unusually patchy, the bruising on her arm from hitting every hard surface in the room, her stained clothes torn in several places. Her study came back to her eyes. How did I get here? With a deep sad sigh, she said out loud, ‘How ugly I’ve become’.
The room was a mess. Everything was out of place or broken. The mattress was torn and stabbed in several places same as the blue and pink bed sheets she loved so much – they were forever ruined. She picked up a pillow off the floor, hugging it, she walked to the balcony and stared out into the dawning day. This was usually her favorite part of the day. That moment in time every morning where possibilities were birthed and hope danced in the rising shadows. It always made her feel tingly, like she could do anything, the burst of energy she was accustomed to did not come and had not come for over 6 months. Today, there was no relief, no smile, no godlike feeling. She felt nothing, nada! Instead everything was bleak, spoiled, ruined and damaged; just like the room behind her.
As she took out her pain and anger on her apartment the night before, she knew what she needed to do. Her mind was made up, there was no turning back. All the wheels had been set in motion and she had one final thing to do. Calm and Control. That’s all she needed.
Walking back through the room, careful not to step on the broken shards of glass left from the bedside lamp and flute glasses, she walked to her closet, took out her clown costume and headed to the bathroom to begin the long process of transmutation. The Clown! It had to look right. White painted face, red nose, red lips, flaming kaleidoscope wig, and large mouse ears. Examining her finished work, she smiled at her reflection and she recalled the clown from the horror movie ‘IT’. The thought sent shivers down her spine and froze her blood as she turned from the memory and her reflection.
Breathing deeply, she stands on the cold aluminum rails of the balcony barefooted, her senses heightened. ‘Nerves please don’t fail me now’, she muttered.
Refusing to look down for fear of changing her mind. She stands there for what seems to be like eternity as time slows, contemplating the ramifications of her decision. ‘I can’t continue to live like this’ she thinks to herself. Something’s Got To Give. She breaks into a laugh at the connection her mind makes to the Jack Nicolson movie. Still laughing, she steps off the 8th floor railing of her apartment building.
She will be remembered as the girl in apartment 8F who went out on her own terms. The flying clown from apartment 8F, they would call her. Her final thought before everything goes dark – Michael. His laughing eyes, his goofiness when he exits the shower draped in only a towel and God, how good he smells when …
When the police come to investigate and determine if foul play was involved, they would see her engagement ring on her note.
“Don’t feel responsible for this Michael, it’s not you, it’s me. I couldn’t keep the darkness at bay and marrying you would have been cruel and deceitful. You deserve better than a dying fiancée”.