RelicHunter97
May 10th, 2011, 10:06 PM
This is a story I write called Ritz and Tragedy. Hope you enjoy :)
There she stays, waiting for her love.
She watches the drive way day and night, hoping for the return of the one she calls
“Honey,”
Pausing only to call his closest;
Friends;
Family;
All of which, including her own, abandoned her, labeled her.
Lost cause.
Hopeless.
Pitiable.
She is thrown into despair.
Her life, which she once thought so high of,
Is now withered.
Not even her family’s fortune can spark a glimmer of hope or happiness.
She goes for days without eating.
She simply forgets to.
Her only attire that she wears is the beaded dress that she wore that fateful night;
When he left.
Her thoughts are riddled with the unknown.
Anxiety lurks at every corner.
Wishes fall as do leaves from the great oak in the fall season.
Starting out sparse, then more and more until it whips into a sea of hopelessness,
Followed by the harsh and unforgiving winter.
So cold and desolate, yet so warm…
That is,
If there are loved ones to share it with.
But she has no one.
Nothing.
All alone in an opulent bedroom turned prison chamber.
Waiting.
Praying.
But why should she pray now, after being ignored for so long?
There is no faith left in the ragged and torn remains of her soul.
What is this?
She speaks…
She, who had not spoken since she realized he was gone;
Three years and a month prior.
She speaks of the end.
And what she can do the help it along.
It is a blustery day; it is overcast.
And a storm is afoot, ready to strike at whatever time.
She must beat it.
She gets up.
Trudges across the molding carpet and fallen pieces of ceiling,
Nearly tripping on a once impressive chandelier,
Just like her previous life once was.
She reaches the porch door, rotting and nearly falling off of its hinges.
And pushes it open with a sigh.
She stands, her hair and dress blowing in the wind.
And approaches the edge.
She climbs up the banister as it starts to rain.
She curses all who abandoned her and says good bye.
By this time the rain is torrential and there is thunder and lightning every few seconds.
The storm is looming overhead.
She prepares to jump, and the telephone rings,
Yet she is unable to hear it over the thunder and her own cries.
As she is starting to have second thoughts, a branch blown by the gales strikes her back.
And just as her wishes and hopes for life did, she falls.
Then, she hits the ground.
And the threads of her white beaded dress snap.
Beads fly, as brilliantly white as they were on that fateful night.
Yet they are masked by the newly fallen hail pellets,
And as she takes her final breaths, a message is left on the phone.
From the very lover who left her so long ago.
Telling her of how he had been kidnapped,
Forced into crime.
But he is unaware,
That the woman who he so deeply loves, who he has not seen since that night,
Is dead.
There she stays, waiting for her love.
She watches the drive way day and night, hoping for the return of the one she calls
“Honey,”
Pausing only to call his closest;
Friends;
Family;
All of which, including her own, abandoned her, labeled her.
Lost cause.
Hopeless.
Pitiable.
She is thrown into despair.
Her life, which she once thought so high of,
Is now withered.
Not even her family’s fortune can spark a glimmer of hope or happiness.
She goes for days without eating.
She simply forgets to.
Her only attire that she wears is the beaded dress that she wore that fateful night;
When he left.
Her thoughts are riddled with the unknown.
Anxiety lurks at every corner.
Wishes fall as do leaves from the great oak in the fall season.
Starting out sparse, then more and more until it whips into a sea of hopelessness,
Followed by the harsh and unforgiving winter.
So cold and desolate, yet so warm…
That is,
If there are loved ones to share it with.
But she has no one.
Nothing.
All alone in an opulent bedroom turned prison chamber.
Waiting.
Praying.
But why should she pray now, after being ignored for so long?
There is no faith left in the ragged and torn remains of her soul.
What is this?
She speaks…
She, who had not spoken since she realized he was gone;
Three years and a month prior.
She speaks of the end.
And what she can do the help it along.
It is a blustery day; it is overcast.
And a storm is afoot, ready to strike at whatever time.
She must beat it.
She gets up.
Trudges across the molding carpet and fallen pieces of ceiling,
Nearly tripping on a once impressive chandelier,
Just like her previous life once was.
She reaches the porch door, rotting and nearly falling off of its hinges.
And pushes it open with a sigh.
She stands, her hair and dress blowing in the wind.
And approaches the edge.
She climbs up the banister as it starts to rain.
She curses all who abandoned her and says good bye.
By this time the rain is torrential and there is thunder and lightning every few seconds.
The storm is looming overhead.
She prepares to jump, and the telephone rings,
Yet she is unable to hear it over the thunder and her own cries.
As she is starting to have second thoughts, a branch blown by the gales strikes her back.
And just as her wishes and hopes for life did, she falls.
Then, she hits the ground.
And the threads of her white beaded dress snap.
Beads fly, as brilliantly white as they were on that fateful night.
Yet they are masked by the newly fallen hail pellets,
And as she takes her final breaths, a message is left on the phone.
From the very lover who left her so long ago.
Telling her of how he had been kidnapped,
Forced into crime.
But he is unaware,
That the woman who he so deeply loves, who he has not seen since that night,
Is dead.