Finish the Story Contest week 18

It had been quite some time since I joined in the contest. My imagination ran away, so I had taken a break from steeming, except for the daily writes, and commenting on a few posts. There may be hope for me yet, to have a comeback. Thank you @f3nix for the marvelous adventures we are set upon.

Quitting Life

She picked up a resignation form today. She had been thinking about it for a while, handing in her notice, taking her last year. Every day is just the same, different faces, different flavours, but underneath, it was all the same. Was there any point in the endless forward march, the slow decline into ill health, unemployment and poverty? She didn’t have children, no friends who came to visit, and it was at least three years since her last match.

She sat on the corner of her single bed, in her single room, the thin long window illuminating the bare floor. She pushed a loose strand of mousy blonde hair behind her ear, and picking at her thumb, she wandered in thought.

She could travel, she could see the ocean, she could stand beneath trees, she could sit in silence. For one year. It was as good as it got, some people only got 6 months. But was she ready?

She couldn’t keep going, not like this. She had seen the lifers, the people who worked for 65 years and collapsed, decrepit, into the hands of hapless, half-hearted “help”. She had even been that half-hearted, hapless help, she had worked for minimum wage, clearing up bodily fluids, spoon feeding, doing what she could, but it destroyed you, seeing all your future had to offer.

A lot of people who worked there handed in their notice; you had to do it between 40 and 55 to get the year. Some people applied for special circumstances after 55, but generally they got less time.

She was 47. A lot could change in her life still. She could meet someone, she could have children, grandchildren, she could grow old. Couldn’t she…? Did she want to? She turned it over in her mind. She had accepted a lot in her life, but she just couldn’t face the rest of her life, playing out, day by slow dragging, hardworking, lonely, day. Night after empty, starless night. If she took her year, she could get away from the cities and their thick rank pollution. She could escape the crush of the masses, the regimented flow of preoccupied people. Her parents took her to a forest once, before the regulations changed, and closing her eyes, she could almost hear the hushed whisper of branches, almost feel the dappled sunlight on her upturned face. Almost. She opened her eyes, was there ever really any question? She had dreamed of it for as long as she could remember, and in that moment, she realised, she was always going to quit, it was never a question of did she want to, just when. Was she ready?

She flopped back onto her bed, bouncing back against the overly springy mattress. Relief coursed through her. She was going to quit, maybe not today, but she would do it. The digital display in the wall flashed, green numbers ticking over, 23:00. Instinctively, she felt around her bedside tablet, and pressing the button, retrieved her small blue pill. Blue before bed, white before work. It dissolved on her tongue, and she felt the thoughtless relaxation wash over her.

The next morning, she woke before her alarm had chance to rouse her. She stood at the window, watching the constant ebb and flow of people and traffic, the living city beneath her never slept. Her resolve had only hardened overnight, it felt right. She retrieved the form. She would quit. She would take the year. One good year, then call it quits.

...
My entry
IMG_20141005_131113-1.jpg

The aching desire to quit had been forthcoming for too long. She had already attempted this a few times, and then found herself backing out. Emily felt that this time was for real. No backing down. No second thoughts. Sure, it was most likely going to be hard to seek a new destination, but hadn't she felt the same way all those years ago, when she got the job here? She got tired of the city life, filled with so much noise. It was hard to relax. And those damned pills! One to help her stay calm at work, and the other to help her sleep at night. She hated those things, but without them, she would never have survived.
She drove to work and handed over the letter. The boss didn't even read it, just took the form and set it on the desk, then turned back to her damned computer. Emily walked out and began her daily tasks. While sitting at her desk, she looked at the photo she had on her wall. She had always dreamt of the day she'd return to that life.
"Yes, that is where I will go. My heart belongs there, with Nature," she thought to herself. "Please Lord, help me hang in there for one more year."
..
Several months later, Emily had still not been questioned about her notice. As time drew near, she became so overwhelmed and anxious at the same time. She was filled with so much wanting, to begin her new life, and maybe even find her soulmate, that she struggled to sleep, even after taking the blue pill.

Knowing the next day, she would finally give her boss a piece of her mind, she took 4 of her sleeping pills. She wanted to be sure she had a full nights sleep.
After Emily missed 5 days of work, her boss sent someone to her apartment. The manager let them in when there was no response. Emily lay upon her bed, clutching a picture of a girl on a horse.

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I think that in this kind of world - not only the fiction one - many choose this option, unfortunately. It's nice to see you back Pixie :-)

It is good to be back my friend. And yes, sadly they do. Once again, I placed myself in said story, to help pull it off.

One two many sleeping pills equals a lifetime vacation, LOL.

So tragic! Sooo close to escape!!

Yeah, it was my way to be sure and keep it at the limit, lol. :) Thank you for reading.

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Oh, no! Poor Emily, shattered by the millstone...pills are a double edged weapon

Yep, darned pills. Guess she missed the warning label :( Thank you for reading :)

Week #19 emerged from the shadows.. good luck, brave storyteller!

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