Carrie

         She walked quickly down the deserted night streets, huddled in her black pea coat, a thick wool scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. As she paced on the sidewalk, watching her breath like fog cling to the icy wind, she tried to clear her mind of all the thoughts buzzing around in it, causing her a terrible headache. All the things that happened seemed irrelevant, yet continued to plague her mind.
         Turning a corner sharply, she darted into a convenience store. Thankful for the warmth it held, thankful to be off the menacing street, she took her time picking out what she needed. From a nearby shelf the young woman selected a bottle of Tylenol, maximum strength. At the back of the store, she pulled out a small bottle of Evian, and then headed up to the counter.
         “I know I shouldn’t …” she thought, while asking the cashier for a pack of Marlboro Lights. As he asked to see her ID, she smiled inwardly, loving whenever this happened, reminding her that she wasn’t near dead yet.
         She paid and waltzed out, back to the street, ready to once again brace the piercing cold of that January night.
         After a few steps, she sat carefully on a staircase, leading up to her final destination.
         Thoughts still pounding in her mind, she tore open the seal on the bottle of pain killers and popped three. Not the recommended dose, but what did she care.
Pulling out a cigarette from the brand-new pack, she slowly leaned back, resting her head gingerly on a stair above.
         The night sky, a black void she wished she could fall into, eased her pain and made her feel safe. So what, she wasn’t the first one to make a few mistakes. Alright, a lot of mistakes, but no one was counting. No one but her. She tugged on the hem of her jeans, wondering about what was and what could have been, instead of wondering if she had made the right choices, because, as all the times before, there would be no answer. It was so long ago, all of this, but nowhere near forgotten. Not by her anyways.
         She smiled up at the clear sky, one glistening tear making its way down her pale face. But she did not wipe it away, she let it run its course, let it crash soundlessly onto the city pavement.
         With determination, she withdrew her cell phone from her coat pocket and began typing rapidly. Moments later it beeped as she read the reply, ready to be let down, as she had so many times before. She swallowed one more pill, draining the bottle of water.
         Tears flowed abundantly from her emerald eyes as she stood up. Taking another cigarette, she turned lightly around, looking up at the big, dark door that those very stairs she was sitting on led up to. Ever so slowly, she mounted them, walking as if she were to sneak up on someone. For awhile she stood on the landing, watching as the smoke whipped away in the bitter wind. Stomping out her cigarette, she inhaled the cold wind, daggers in her throat, for what seemed like eternity. Then, without a moment’s notice, she wheeled around and darted down the stairs, down the sidewalk, away from the brownstone.
         She ran and ran, the wind hitting her face, stinging like a million sharp diamonds being viciously hurled at her. And she laughed. She laughed loudly, possibly waking some neighbours as she continued to run.
         The harsh wind caused her eyes to water, but this simply blended in with the hot tears pouring from those gorgeous green eyes, as she carried on running ever faster, the laughter still not stopping. Finally, she came to a brutal halt in front of a large glass double door, leading into a far larger building.
         She stood, panting heavily, before the immaculately dressed doorman, unraveling her scarf as he opened the door, and smiling. Her final destination had changed.