Elizabeth looked out over the still water. The lake was beautiful this time of year, and with the hot temperatures and little breezes, the water was often like a perfect sheet of glass.
She’d come here, to her family’s lake house with a purpose.
As she sat out on the back deck overlooking the lake waters, she sipped a glass of wine, thinking over things.
How could she let everything get so bad?
She no longer had any friends. She had pushed them all away. She was too demanding of them. She thought they could meet her needs, but in the end, they couldn’t, or wouldn’t.
So she shut herself away from everyone.
Her family was dispersed all over the world. She couldn’t bring herself to talk to them anyway. When she did speak to any of them, be it her parent or siblings, she put on a happy face, joked and laughed. She didn’t want anyone to know just how ruined her life was.
Just how worthless she was.
She finished off her glass of wine, pouring another. That was the last of that bottle.
She was mentally preparing herself. Telling herself this was the right thing to do.
Solitude. It was all she deserved.
Oh, but how she longed for more.
That’s what her life was amounting to. Nothing but longing for something she could never have.
Elizabeth finished off her glass of wine rather quickly. There was no reason to keep putting this off. The sun was dipping down beneath the horizon.
She stood, feeling light headed. Yes, a little more than just a buzz. She was teetering on drunk.
She walked down from the deck onto the shore of the tranquil, peaceful lake.
There was no one around for miles way out here.
She picked up some heavy stones, placing them into the pockets of her summer dress.
She then waded out into the lakes waters. It felt good against her heated skin. Not too cold, but cool enough.
Deeper and deeper she went, until she could barely touch the bottom.
She could have done this by slitting her wrists. She could have taken a bunch of pills. She could have used her father’s handgun.
She deserved the suffering that came with this action.
There was a certain comfort in defeat. A pleasure.
As she step off the threshold of the edge into the deep, she didn’t even take a breath.
The rocked weighted her, the dress tangled about her legs, and her drunken state left her unknowing of which was what.
She allowed herself to be wrapped in the pleasure of death. She opened her mouth and sucked in as much water as her lungs could hold.
This, of course, kicked in the body’s natural preservation mode.
It was too late for that now. She had prepared too well.
Death came for her, offering her the sweet release she had long from her pathetic life.