zethembisohlongwane
In this fictional story we watch Rebecca battle herself for love.
Some chase success, some chase money, some chase love but I chase solace, freedom and maybe liberation. Every morning I get up and drive, drive up the endless world trying to reach the sun. I know, it sounds crazy but still, I do it and will continue to do it till I die. I moved the binoculars off my eyes allowing my naked eyes to look straight at the bright rays of the sun setting behind the hills of Kovu ahead. Warm summer breeze blew some of my hair onto my face as I turned away heading back to my old ford ltd II Brougham. It had been a gift, a gift from my beloved, late husband, Thomas Cruz. A good man and father. I never understood how the man who lived up in the sky would take the liberated souls and let those like me live. Even my dear mother Elizabeth Summer had cursed me to not reach 21 years by the time I was fifteen.
Yes, my dear mother had hoped the rapier would collect my soul sooner for I bore nothing but trouble for her so she defended herself. I made the engine rumble and sped up the quiet road. I needed to get to the sun before it set away. My skinny hand pulled the cubbyhole open. The sight of my pistol came to view. Safety? No, it wasn't for safety. I had given up on myself long before Thomas left the earth although he never knew, for I was good at keeping everything inside. A Russian doll Erick would call me for I had layers after layers, I had built strong and all thanks to my wonderful life. A life I was reminded to be grateful of in every prayer we did during supper.
I pulled the box of cigarettes and lighter. I had sworn to stop smoking to my son, Robert but here I was taking another huff. It was pointless stopping now, not when my days were already numbered. I slid one of the cigarettes inside my dry lips and lit it. What use was the use of fighting if I was wished lose? The smell of nicotine rushing through my body and seemed to make it come to life. A short cough escaped my lips as I tossed the box and lighter back inside the cubbyhole. Quickly I pulled out the cigarette in my mouth out coughing even more. I felt my tears burning the back of my eyes.
It hurt, my lungs but I wasn’t bored by the pain. Pain had been my life. Going through Chemotherapy wasn’t another pain I was willing to go through. People died, why was I to try and cheat it? Anyway, I missed Thomas. It wouldn’t hurt seeing him one last time. Robert and Stacy were all grown up, I didn’t see a reason to keep on living. My job as a parent was done. My foot stepped on the accelerator, feeling the air from the open window rush through my delicate lungs. I had always been fascinated by rockets. I had wished to get on one. I stepped even more on the accelerator, the speedometer increasing rapidly. So, this was how people in rockets felt? High and free?
