The early spring greenery, flushed with golden sunlight shimmering in the morning dew, was a stark background to the black and white contrast of Nadia's hair, skin, and raw emptiness. Looking around at the wilderness that surrounded her she decided to lose herself to that which she was already lost to.
She pulled her cell phone from the back pocket of her faded jeans and noted that it was well past time for her to be on her way back home. Without a second thought she laid the useless keeper of time on a concrete slab, which separated stream from pavement, along with her keys. Then without a second of hesitation she began to run.
She ran the length of the busy overpass, her legs more powerful than even she knew, to the small winding road that brought her to the serenity beneath the busy bustling of humanity. A mirror of her self, and she ran from it hoping that a speeding local would come barreling down the one-lane gravel path and take from her the life she did not have the nerve to take from herself.
The thought of returning did not cross her mind when she noticed a clearing through the trees leading upward to the heights of the unknown. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief at the idea of leaving the man-made path to find herself lost in a wilderness where no one would ever find her, and she continued running.
Thorns and thistles quickly gathered in her long, flowing hair, barely pierced her skin as they attached to her clothing. She ran harder and faster with every step. Wearing only sandals to protect the soles of her feet they were torn open from the sharp edges of the blades beneath them. It mattered not, Nadia felt as if her skin and her soul had already been torn and burnt beyond repair.
Harder still, she ran up the side of that Appalachian mountain and harder she tried to disappear into it. The vines entangling the brush surrounding her grew thicker and she was forced to slow herself to manipulate her way through it. Her hands grew thick with the stickiness of the thriving life within the wilderness as she fought her way through. It was, she imagined, the only real sign of life about her.
She stopped, putting her hands over her head to catch her breath. Looking around she felt lost enough. Then the screaming began.
No words were echoed in that solid screaming. Just one guttural bellow after the other until there was no voice left inside of her to so much as even whisper. For at least an hour she stood there in the center of nothing and everything, screaming. She thought that if she screamed loud enough, hard enough, long enough that he might hear her despair. That he would come find her and pluck her from the emptiness he had knowingly given her to.
Of course she knew better but she screamed just the same. No words could ever do justice to the violence brewing under her skin. No words could make him love her. No words could change the pain that she would face every moment from that dreadful night on. So she screamed until she was as depleted physically as she was in every other conceivable way and then she fell to the moistness of the earth below writhing in agony until she fell into a deep sleep.