She looked over her shoulder at him and said
"Do not use such a word to describe this fiery emotion in my chest. Sadness is too feeble to bear the weight of what I feel."
The small boy cocked his head to one side looking puzzled, he opened his mouth, meaning to explain himself.
"But mommy told me-"
The brunette cut the barely 7 year old boy off and stared at him with her flat eyes, the light had fled them long ago, it frantically ran away, looking for refuge as her mind and heart grew darker.
"It's not so simple, this stuffy emotion I feel well up in my chest is so much more. It's utter sorrow, the kind so deep and tangible you feel it poking needles at your bones, freezing your marrow and wrenching your heart."
Letting out a few hollow laughs, she blinked at the stupified boy. A moment of silence. She let out an inner scream.
Screw it all. What was the point.
With that said, she jumped, she was a happy woman really. Dying that way wasn't half bad. At least she felt the sweet release of her agony. Untangling strand By strand. The heaviness in her heart subsided and for the first time in forever, she felt her heart beat.
This, to her, was living, and no one could have convinced her otherwise.
I read this on a post somewhere. It's so sad.