Something Had to Give (52 page)

I had spent extensive time dwelling on how the death of Jason would benefit the kids and me. Never did it cross my mind that my exit from this world would be best for us all too. What did I have to live for? I had no job, no home of my own, and no money. I had nothing. I had no one who cared like I needed them to care. Daily functions seemed like such a burden and there was nothing that seemed to bring any joy to my life. My children deserved a better mom and a better life. There was no way I could give them what they deserved after what I had just done. The only solution to what I had done was for me to die also. The thought of dying didn’t scare me. What bothered me, was knowing that people would call me a coward and say I took the easy way out instead of facing the consequences of my actions. They wouldn’t know my side of the story. They wouldn’t know the type of person Jason really was and the way he changed me. I wanted to somehow send a message to world that said, “I AM NOT THE BAD PERSON.”

I had to laugh at the fact that once again I found myself in a familiar situation. I needed a way to commit a murder; this time my own. It looked as though I was in the clear of a bear or wolf showing up to maul me, so I had to come up with something else. The ideas seemed to come so easily when I was planning Jason’s murder, but with my own, everything seemed so harsh and painful. I had convinced myself that I deserved a peaceful death. I wasn’t a bad person. My car was still there which made me consider driving it into traffic, but that would put innocent people at risk. I thought about going into the bathroom and hanging myself, but I quickly realized how ridiculous that was. I didn’t have a rope or anything to use and with the amount of people going in and out, it would never work. My next idea was the one I figured was the most logical, which was to call the police and tell them where I was. I had no intentions of being taken into custody alive and I knew it wouldn’t take much to get them to shoot me, especially since I had already killed two people. It was a foolproof plan and I was ready.

Since I had ditched my cell phone hours earlier, I had to walk into the rest area and use the pay phone. When I lifted the phone from the receiver, everything in me wanted to back out, but I knew I couldn’t. My hands were shaking and my vision got blurry as I tried to focus on the numbers. “Come on Cheryl”, I said out loud to myself. “It’s only three numbers.”

“Chattanooga 911, what’s your emergency?”

“My name is Cheryl Atkins. I set my ex-boyfriend on fire and ran someone else over in my car. I am the rest area at exit 302 in a white Toyota. The police can come and get me.”

The operator was still talking when I hung up, but I wasn’t really feeling up to answering questions. I walked back to my car and sat there enjoying my last few minutes of being able to breath in fresh air. It didn’t take long before I heard sirens and the reality of what was about to happen hit me. Without thinking I started the car up and sped out the rest stop towards the highway. I was on the over pass to get on when I pulled over and stopped. I climbed over to the passenger side and squeezed my way out the door which put me right at the cement wall of the over pass. Looking down to the cars whizzing down the highway, I thought to myself. “Could I really do that? Could I jump?” I couldn’t really think of why jumping would be a better option than letting the police shoot me, but my mind kept telling me to do it. I was still looking down telling myself to just do it when two police cars arrived. Within seconds, two more were right behind them and I could hear multiple sirens headed my way. I knew it was going to happen so it didn’t bother me that so many were coming.

“Ma’am, I need you to back away from the wall and put your hands up.” The officer wasn’t shouting, but his voice was stern and rough. I turned to tell him that it wasn’t necessary and saw that there were six police officers outside their vehicles with guns pointed at me.

“Holy shit.”

That was the only thing that came to mind. It wasn’t television. It was real and it scared me to death. I figured I had two options. I could jump or run towards them forcing them to shoot. I didn’t know how many would shoot. At that point I didn’t want to risk being shot and living. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I wanted out of this mean world. I noticed that one of the officers was slowly inching closer and closer to me as he shouted out commands that I blocked out. My brain was telling my legs to just jump, but something kept me frozen in my spot.

“Ma’am, I need you on the ground with your hands up now!”

“Just shoot me.” I responded as I began to cry.

“We are not going to shoot, but we do need you on the ground now!”

The officer had no sympathy. He saw my tears. He had to know that I was sorry and scared, so why was he still yelling at me to get on the ground. It dawned on me that no one would care about my side of the story. Everyone would just see me as crazed murderer and that wasn’t fair. It would be me against the world and I had nothing left in me to fight. I was done.

“Tell everyone I’m sorry.”

Those were my last words before I closed my eyes and leaped. I thought I would be scared as I braced myself for hitting the ground and likely being run over, but I wasn’t. I felt like I was floating. Countless times, I had watched television and scoffed at people saying their lives flashed before their eyes. It always sounded so corny until it happened to me. I saw elementary days that were so fun and innocent, my days with Jacob by the creek, my days running track in high school, and all the magical moments I had shared with Derrick, Eric, and Jason. I would have given anything to go back and re-live anyone of those moments. I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as possible so that I wouldn’t miss a moment. It made me smile to think about seeing Jackie and my grandparents again. As flashes of Brandon and Amelia’s smiles popped up, I felt myself smile even harder. It was the perfect last memory.

∞∞∞

I woke up to the sound of machines beeping. I wanted to open my eyes, but they felt so heavy. For as far back as I could remember I believed that when you die, your soul goes to either heaven or hell. I learned early on that there were certain things you did in life that ensured that you would have a seat in hell. Among those things were murder and suicide. I had committed both and had resigned to the fact that I had a first class seat to hell, right next to Satan himself. After I jumped, I didn’t know what to expect. Would I wake up in the flames of hell, burning like Jason? My whole body felt like lead making it impossible for me to sit up or move in any direction. I couldn’t even open my mouth to talk. I expected it to be hot in hell, but for some reason, I felt cool air blowing on me. How was that possible? My mind was racing trying to put everything together, when I was finally able to get one eye open. All I saw was ceiling tile, which didn’t make any sense. And what could be beeping. It took several minutes for me to get my other eye open, and though I couldn’t move my neck, I was able to roll my eyes around to scan the area. It didn’t take long to realize that I was not in hell. I was in a hospital room with several machines around me beeping.

Oh my God! I had jumped and survived.

Trish D is a North Carolina native who spends her days writing a range of different short stories and novels. When not writing, she can usually be found with her nose in a book or hands behind the needle of a sewing machine. She’s been writing since she was a teen, but only just recently decided to take the plunge into the publishing world.