A Moment Of Joy

A Moment Of Joy

An Original Story by Chris Richards

The room was of pale decor, all pastel blue walls and apple-white
woodwork, the floor having been stripped of carpet and replaced with a
'fashionable' wooden deck, that now, more than ever before, seemed out
of place.
Almost blinding white light flooded in from the wall of glass that
provided a bird's-eye view of the sprawling metropolis that was New
York City.
Mary sat on the floor, motionless, looking at the mirror she'd just
shattered, still seeing traces of cocaine on the broken fragments,
desperately wanting to pick one up and rip it across her wrist in a
final act of insanity. But a small voice in the back of her mind kept
her in check, soothing her gently and she sighed, running a hand
through her long golden locks of hair, closing her eyes for a moment as
the tears came once again.
It was never meant to have been like this.
As a teenager she'd left Smallville USA in search of the 'American
Dream', but hopes of an aspiring career in the movies were quickly torn
from her by a mugger's knife, as she'd cruised the streets of LA. As so
often happens she met all the wrong people at the right time, falling
in with a bad crowd, getting involved in many things only months before
she'd never dreamt of being apart of; Drugs, sex, robbery and it wasn't
long before she was scavenging for food on the streets, a shadow of her
former bright, beautiful self.
Then she met Harry and he promised her the world and more.
Had a thing for scars did Harry, a sexual desire that knew no end and
soon she looked like a patchwork quilt beneath her clothes. That in
itself was bad enough, but then he got his friends involved and they
filmed her, sold as a whore and in his grip she was powerless; a
drugged up piece of flesh, a canvas on which people, men and women,
left their mark.
That was a little over a year ago and now as she looked at the grey
couch that she'd pushed against the apartment door she smiled, her gaze
shifting across to the blood spattered corpse that lay only a few feet
away, picking up a fragment of the mirror, raising it to her face,
thinking that maybe in death she could find salvation.
But still the voice in her head told her to remain calm.
Standing, she moved over to the window, looking down at the millions
of ants that ran around beneath her, envying them their normal
lives.
It was as she turned that she suddenly realised that the door to the
apartment was open and that two men were running towards her.
Instinctivley she raised the gun that she was still holding in her
hand, seeing a flash of light before her, hearing the shot before it
hit her in the shoulder, throwing her backwards against the window
where she shattered the glass and began to fall, the moments slipping
by in slow-motion.
The first thought that crossed her mind was of a time when she was a
young girl and she was standing on a diving board, doing her first
backwards somersault and then she saw the sky falling away from her,
heared her own voice as she screamed, the voice in her head becoming
deathly silent.....

The End

Copyright: Chris Richards 1997

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