"I miss you so much.
Jake, I really do...
Where'd you go?"
Judith pined, sobbing out to the gloom that blanketed the sky,
her heartbeat in rhythm to the tears of the heavens.
Her mood was clearly parallel to that of the heavy clouds.
"Who am I kidding...
WHO am I trying to kid..."
She slammed her palms against the glass panes,
which reverberated menacingly,
and leaped out her window,
her limbs outspread, in a frenzy, to vent
all the overdue frustration.
Not even the strong winds can stop her
from falling four levels down, now.
The evening was dark and dreary with rain-
so perfect.
The limp body of Judith bounced off
the trampoline her dad had bought for her
fifteenth birthday.
"Funny... I didn't hit the edges today.
My subconscious aim is getting so much better..."
She lay there, motionless for a while,
as she took in the cold trickles, letting
her tears blend in.
She didn't care if the neighbours saw
her sprawled out, so unglamorous,
on a ridiculously huge trampoline.
She was sick of the unpredictable
waves of fatigue and melancholy,
especially when she had too much time by her own,
and the rain was too tantalizing to move away from, anyway.
Dragging herself off the finally-stilled trampoline,
Judith tore through the rain around her neighbourhood,
immersed in her world of Gramophone and
uncaring of the cars that whizzed by her side.
It's been years.
No call. No indication. No concern.
"What was I to make of this?
That I did something wrong?
That you left for another?
Knowing could have helped so much more."
Judith felt so much like tearing her own skin apart,
except that she lacked the strength nor
the boldness to hurt herself, too much.
Instead, she let the angst and disappointment
lead her along her estate,
so that she could not feel her legs anymore,
that her arms soured and stitches played up in her sides,
but still, she ran on.
Judith was always running.
In reality, in her dreams/ nightmares.
She often woke up, a fraction from screaming,
drenched in sweat.
She hated running,
hated the things she ran from.
Sometimes, she hated herself.
She understood the mechanics of life, though.
Guys were always likely to leave for a more voluptuous lady,
one who had the looks-
big eyes, sharp nose, small lips, high cheekbones-,
who had a sharp tongue.
She's seen too many friends lose out,
and every time they did, she felt their pain.
And she, more than anyone else, knew
that, in a fight like this,
she will definitely lose out.
Judith lacked the long, lean legs that could seduce,
the luscious locks boys dug their head into,
the slender silhouette to get into tight-fit clothes,
the facial features which stood out.
She didn't really give a damn about these
feminine worries till Jake forced her to
delve into it.
It was as if all that he'd ever told her
were pieces of TV.
The closeness he displayed seemed an act,
the moments they shared likened a dress rehearsal,
every kiss was just practice for perfection...
his perfection.
As if coming from a broken family wasn't
enough trauma...
She immediately felt the knife stab
and dashed through the last stretch of road
before plunging onto her bed,
thoroughly soaked.
Judith crumpled into a ball
and sobbed herself to a dwindling heartbeat
against the London sky, while
her windows lay wide opened, her
curtains snaking up the walls,
and while shadows played across her ceiling.
Enough.
Like all stupid depressed females
with a broken heart,
a bottle, a broken empty glass and spilled pills
laid, abandoned,
at the corner of the bed.
