Nothing; The Suicide Story Of A Jilted Bride

nothing suicdal note of the jilted bride

I look shabby, my hair han’t been combed and I still have makeup remnants on my face. The heartbroken voice of a singer mirrors my mood as he sings in the background the power of Nothing. I can relate to the singer’s pain and his repeated lyrics about heartbreaks.

It’s been a week but the pain still hasn’t subsided.  Seven hurt filled days since he told me before all the guests at our wedding that he is in love with an illiterate tailor. Before he told me she is pregnant for him before the stunned guests. His parents looked relieved watching him disgrace and break my heart. I can’t blame them though, I have never been anyone’s choice of wife material. My life has been nothing but a series of heartbreaks leaving me with nothing but this damaged shell called person.

As he talked about his love for her, I crumble to the floor in my gorgeous Vera Wang dress, my perfectly made up face suddenly losing all its allure. I felt every day of my thirty seven years that day. She may be an illiterate but she has got the love of my man, and she is quite young. I should have seen it coming, I should have read the signs but I guess the whole pressure of about getting married blinded me, leaving me with a clouded vision. Look at me now, relegated far beyond that place called square one. I allowed myself be disgraced and humiliated on a day that should have been my day of joy in the presence of both guests that I know and do not know.

Nobody stopped him as he spilled his guts. I have never felt more alone in a crowd but somehow I managed to walk out of the church, my mum’s lamentations about my failure as a woman ringing in my ears with dad’s affirmation echoing it. The bridesmaids watched me go, their pitiful stares and glances following me. I couldn’t bear to look at any of them. At the door, some of the guests whispered words of encouragement but I knew they didn’t mean it, I have come to the end of my road.

Suddenly the church was a flurry of activities as everyone began talking at once just when I threw the doors open. Mom suddenly remembered her duty as a mother and rushed after me, allowing me to cry my eyes out for the one week since he broke my heart, refusing to remove my wedding gown. He wouldn’t pick his calls or reply his messages. No one has cared enough to check on me. They must feel it is embarrassing. The words of this song mirrors my aching heart. I am alive but barely breathing. No one would care if I die, maybe I should write a letter about how I want to be buried? I want to be cremated and have my ashes spread into the ocean because only the strong tides can wash away this pain and humiliation.  All my belongings can go to charity or perhaps an organization for abused women?

I stand up from the bed and come out of the bedroom. Nobody is home. That is how much they didn’t care. 37 and back in my parent’s house. I take my car keys and drive to my favorite restarunt, the one he used to take me to. I order their most expensive meal and after my meal I drive around the city, it isn’t such a bad place, beautiful in fact but I don’t belong here anymore. At last, I drive to the hardware store and purchase a sturdy rope, smiling for the first time as I request the sales boy to knot it for me. He did uninterestedly, couldn’t he see I am wearing a wedding gown? But his eyes look sad like he has problems of his own.

My whole life flashes before my very eyes as I drive back home. From running to meet mum to being shoved aside and then the faces of the different nannies before being shipped off to the boarding to school. What a waste my academic achievements, virginity, good girl attitude would be when I dance with the ocean tides. I am numb, the pain feels like a part of me. The song is still replaying itself as I walk through the door and I increase the stereo to the loudest. Tying the end of the rope to the ceiling, I climb a chair to reach it and sling the knotted end through my neck. I take one final look round the house and before the courage can leave, I kick the chair from underneath me. For the first few seconds, all I can hear is a ringing in my ears then the biting pain as the rope cuts into my neck. A wave of darkness hits me as I swing free and then there is nothing.

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About lelovicks

I love writing, photography and generally being goofy.
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