Work Text:
Ophelia wasn't suicidal. It didn't matter what happened, she would never even let the idea cross her mind. She had so much to live for, even if it was a struggle to get through a week more often than not. This was never meant to happen. She had so much to live for. Esther, Ophelias young daughter, was to celebrate her ninth birthday in just a few days. Ophelia had just gotten a huge promotion, and a massive pay raise. Things had been looking up for the first time in a long time.
Why had it happened? Why now? Every few days Ophelia would get drunk, even though she knew it was a dangerous hole to fall down. She always drove back home. It wasn't as if it was far, only a few miles from the bar to the apartment where Esther would always be asleep already, the next door neighbor waiting for the promised pay for babysitting. Ophelia knew the danger. Hadn't her own father died after getting drunk and driving his car into a lake?
It didn't matter now though. Ophelia got drunk, like she always did, and drove home, like she always did. It had been hours since the collision. One minute everything was fine, like it always was. The next minute, the world erupted in agonizing pain, so badly it caused her to blackout. She was awake now, listening to her own heartbeat. She was going to die. The doctors told her they were doing what they could, they told her there was a chance. But she knew she was going to die.
Oh, did Esther know? Would she find out the very next morning, excited to tell her mother the dream she had? The police told her that if she survived she would go to jail for causing the death of a young man. But it didn't matter. Ophelia was going to die. They say your hearing is the last of the five senses to go. The last thing Ophelia heard was the flat line of her own heart monitor.
Ophelia wasn't suicidal. But she might as well have been.
