Cold Feet

She closed the book, placed it on the table, and, finally, decided to walk through the door. Her bare feet sunk into the stinging cold of the fluffy snow. She wondered who would be the unfortunate soul to find her notebook. The notebook that contained her deepest feelings of darkness taking over the shell of what used to be a happy version of herself. The version of herself that everyone wanted to be around. Would it be her mom? Her dad? Her little brother, only six years old, too young to understand the sheer agony splitting open his idols skin, taking over his sister. His playmate. His bodyguard.
She sunk to her knees in the snow, the cold seeping into her very bones as it bled through her cotton pajama pants. The stars were shining, bright, full of potential. Just like her brother. She could visualize his bright hazel eyes, way too big for his face. His short, lean, body. His high, tinkling laugh that mimics bells blowing in the wind.
Pondering what might happen if he is the one who finds the notebook, she closed her eyes and saw him, barely tall enough to reach the table, on his tippy-toes stretching out his body to just maybe get ahold of it. She saw triumph in his eyes as he grabbed the notebook and slowly sounded out the words. When he began to understand that his sister has escaped the true agony of this world, the light disappeared out of his eyes. Her own eyes hurriedly popped open, interrupting the nightmare of what could be if she goes through with this plan. He will never be able to fathom why. With tears exploding from the corners of her eyes, she realized that she couldn’t do this to him. She couldn’t leave him alone in this world with no one to go to. She can’t make him feel trapped so similarly to how she is.
Slowly she rose back to her cold-numb feet and trotted back to the door of the house. She swung it open, hastily grabbed the notebook, and forcefully shoved it into the garbage. Immediately she ran up the stairs and burst into the bathroom. Pulling a full pill bottle out of her pocket she emptied the contents into the toilet and flushed before she could change her mind.
With a sigh of relief, she slowly tiptoed out of the bathroom, and into her brother’s room. Maneuvering her way through the minefield of action figures and legos a six year old boy is bound to have artfully scattered across the floor, she made her way to his bedside. She studied his relaxed face. His fluffy, brown hair, much like her own, was way too long and almost brushing across his closed eyelids. His pink lips were turned up into a slight smile, which warmed her heart, making her feel alive once more. She pushed back his hair and softly placed a kiss on his smooth forehead.
“Thank you” she sighed with relief.