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| Clever Girl... >> Writing >> Mr Perfect... >> Ophelia This is close to the end of the book, the last 20 pages or so. Ophelia Sometimes, when Joseph's incessent flirting has hurt me particularly badly, I like to think about my death. In my dreams it's always a beautiful, spiritual experience. I'm wearing the soft floating lilac dress I wore to my year 10 formal, lying back in a pool of crimson tinted water. My cheeks are flushed pink, my lips are blood red, my eyes are closed, covered by silver shadows. My hair fans out, beautiful without a hint of fizz, pop, or curl. Petals cover the water, emitting the sweet smell of jasmine. There's music playing - Hole, Veruca Salt, Radiohead and Jewel moan their melancholy love songs, the lights are dimmed, all is beautiful. But a closer look at this romantic scene reveals my greying, clammy skin; three evenly cut blood red lines on each of my wrists, releasing than crimson dye into the water. A stack of envelopes lies by the bath - Mum, Dad, Miranda, Joseph... everyone. But I don't have a bath. Joseph does. A large snow white spa with pure gold taps, releasing the hot, steamy water. The water flows. The blood flows, and flows, and flows... It's cathartic. It's pure. It's beautiful. Joseph knocks on the bathroom door, wondering what's taking me so long. Eventually he enters and sees me. He reads my letter and understands. That it's ALL HIS FAULT. And he's sorry, he regrets the way he treated me. He's sorry, he realises that he really does love me. And he regrets. So, so much. Everyone mills around my grave... No Need To Argue by The Cranberries plays - Elton John's Funeral For A Friend too. They're all crying, wondering what on earth they could have, should have done. They're all sorry. They really did love me. Only it took my death for them to realise it. But this is all just a melodramatic fantasy. Because I love them all far, far too much for me to actually do it. I know how abandoned I'd feel if Miranda did it - I could never do the same to her. And, despite all my moping, I really do love Joseph. So it all remains a dream. A beautiful, morbid, dream. And some things are best left as fantasy. back |
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