Sarah Troy

By Sarah Troy 2018

The bedroom door is closed. My palms become cold and clammy. My chest has a weight pulling it down. I reach for the handle and slowly turn it, but I can’t bring myself to push the door open. My neck begins to hurt from staring at it as three minutes go by. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I open the door.

I just stand there. I know what’s in front of me. I see her then, hanging there from that four poster bed that she so desperately wanted before. A thick rope tied into a noose holding her.

The long brown hair, tied back to show her face. Her reddish, blue face with bulging lips and her body hanging limp underneath. She is wearing her favourite flowery beige dress. No shoes, no socks, and no tights.  Her bare feet hang in mid-air.

She is swaying slightly. Back and forward, back and forward. It hurts knowing she must have done it maybe 15 minutes ago.

If I came home earlier, I could have saved her. I get on the floor, sit down and begin to wail, moan and scream. Hoping someone will hear me and hoping it might make her wake up.