Alley of the Shadow of Death

She wanted to find herself. Desperately so, she escaped her comfortable lifestyle, seeking what more life had to offer. She planned to become a writer one day, but writing requires experience. Her previous experiences not worth recounting, she decided to separate herself from everything she knew.

Inspired by Thoreau, she sought isolation. Rather than displacing herself in the woods, she entered the wild world of New York City, where good is bad and bad is good. It was truly no place like home. She quickly embraced the life of sex, drugs, and rock n roll. She heard music could save her soul.

She met a boy who set her heart on fire. Her period of solitude ended. Life seemed right. She no longer lived for herself, she lived for him. Putting her dreams on hold, she welcomed all the debauchery he introduced. She was on a roller coaster ride that never stopped. The world was spinning, but thats how she liked it.

Her life became his. He was her drug of choice. She functioned only on uppers and lost complete awareness of her self. She grew more dependent on him until he broke her heart. He broke her heart, and she lost the pieces. She felt numb; he just moved on. The numbness haunted her until she made a new friend, who gave her a rush and made her heart skip a beat. This friend was constant and never failed to amuse, but the good times didn't last forever.

Life spun out of control, and no longer in the way she enjoyed. She was riding a roller coaster destined to crash, and there was not a thing she could do to stop it. She went out for a good time. She indulged in everything the night life had to offer. She was having the time of her life until her time stopped.

She lied in an alley, her veins cold and sweat dripping down her back. Her body appeared lifeless. Her friend had abandoned her, although still present in spirit. Steam began to rise from the hot asphalt as the rain began. She told me where she would be that night. I felt something wrong. I felt it at my core. I grew panicky.

I looked for over an hour, and there she was. I knelt next to her body, which appeared to be a skeletal version of myself. She was always the thinner one, but I never saw her like this. Mascara ran all the way down to her chin. I thought she was dead so I just held her close to me, as if my body heat could raise her body temperature. I felt the tears streaming down my cheeks even with the pellets of rain attacking my skin. I remember feeling like half of me died that night. That is until she opened her eyes slightly, as if offended by the light coming from the street. She didn't move just looked up at me and said, "I knew you'd come."