It was a drop. Nothing alarmingly big, nothing insignificantly small. Plump, convex, ruby red. It fell with a tinkle on the white marble tub. There was silence and stillness at the loss of that jewel but as many more of those trickled down her very very slender wrist, there was a shiver. Then that shiver made way for many. And shivers took over her entire body. Within her hand she was clutching something precious. She wouldn't let go, even while she watched the swirly red pool around the drain.
She just wouldn't let go.
She was probably used to it. She probably had already parted with each and every drop of it anyway. So there was no pain, no hurt, no horror at that moment. It was perfectly fine. It was purging in a way.
Slowly, the lights flickered, a mad array of colours and shapes took over her space. And as her tiny feet got inked crimson she indulged in her last morsel of air.
Too heavy, in a jiffy, she slumped towards the earth. A sudden sense of limpness betrayed her stubborn grip. It let loose a whiff of stench. Her last offering to this world, her secret. So that everyone could see the naked truth. Clutched within her hands, was just, a fist full of nothing.
And so she sat there as she crossed the footbridge to the other world, in a white marble tub, in a dark bathroom, in an old building, on a busy street, within an unruly world with an caring air.
