The Last Place

The last place you would expect to find her; well not quite. The signs were always there, she’d said things before; but nothing you’d ever thought to take seriously.

“What if I just disappeared?”

“Well, I’d miss you.”

“I guess I’d better not then.”

You approach the old bridge where she is sitting, with her legs dangling over the edge. It’s clear that this time might not be a joke, so you move closer slowly, not wanting to startle her. The woods beyond look especially ominous and you can't help but to think of all the times she told you the stories about them. About the girls who went missing and never got to return home.

“How’d you know.”

“You said this place is full of the ones who disappeared.”

“I was never joking.”

She’s looking out over the water, her eyes not really taking in the scenery. She looked so defeated, so exhausted and small. It makes your heart hurt, to know she's been like this for so long, fighting so hard.

“I know.”

You slowly take her hand, noting the black and blue that dots her knuckles. She lets you hold it, but more like she doesn’t have the strength to pull away and less like she wants it to be held. You're both quiet for a long time, holding her hand and thinking about all the times you've had these conversations. She's always been serious, but she hadn't mentioned it as much lately, you thought she had been feeling better, getting help. It was clear that had been a delusion, she hadn't been receiving help at all.

“I’m going to disappear tonight.”

Her voice is startling in the empty night, and the hand you’re holding slips from your grasp and she begins walking toward the woods before you manage to stand. Your heart is beating loudly in your ears now, she's left a small notebook behind, one you know she uses to write notes for your eyes only.

“But Wait!”

“Don’t try.” She doesn’t look back, but her voice is sharp, the most emotion you've heard all night. You can hear the tears in it, the way she's finally coming to terms with the decision she is about to make. “You can miss me if you want. But don’t try. Okay?”

She’s on the far side of the bridge now, and before you can take a step she’s over and under the water. The tears fall from your eyes and you step forward to pick up the book. There is a page bookmarked, and you know it is for you so you open it up and look at the elegantly scribbled words.

You were the only thing that I was holding on to, and that wasn't fair to you, so I'm joining the other woman here, the ones who didn't choose this. Maybe the next time our souls meet I won't be this way and I'll give you everything you deserve. Until then, fair well.

It takes everything you have not to follow her, but you do let the notebook fall into the water with her, keeping your last letter safe in your pocket. You'll come back in a year and place flowers on the bridge, look at the forest, and hold yourself as you cry. You'll watch her parents pretend that they're upset when she is pulled from the water days from now, you'll listen to your principle give a lecture on seeking counseling and how important a support system is. And the pain will never leave, you'll find yourself dreaming of this day for years to come, you'll never forget to visit her grave or the bridge.

And when the time comes for you to pass along yourself, you'll pay one last visit to the last place you expected to find her, only because it was the last place you looked and you'll see her waiting for you on the other side, ready to take you home.