The Euphorium Emporium: Chapter,  A Shell of a Woman (Part 1)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: self harm, suicidal ideations and suicide

A rather tall and lanky man grabs the wrist of a small woman in desperation. “Please, I’m begging you,” he states exasperated, “give me just one more chance!”
 She pulls her forearm towards herself, ripping her hand away from him and brushing away some of the tears falling down her face, “I gave you a thousand chances and you know it! I don’t want to be with you anymore! Get away from me, you fucking manipulative asshole!” 
She runs toward the front door, tripping over a half packed box of her clothing, landing on her hands. She stares at the ground, panicking inside and out, before curling up into a ball and sobbing. She mutters to herself, “I want to leave, I want to leave, I want to leave…”
 The man kneels down and puts a hand on her back.
 She lets out a scream louder than a banshee. “Don’t touch me!”
 He stands back up with his hands by his head. “Get back to me when you’re more calm, and a date when you’re moving out. Alright?”
 “I’m not going to be homeless! The house is in both our names. Not just yours. Why don’t you see anything as us, not just you. This is why I can’t stand you!” She sits up and looks at him. Her face is red, snot rolling over her lips, tears stampeding down her face into a puddle on the floor. “You’re so mechanical and I hate it.”
 “I just want you to be happy, honey.”
 “Happy? You want me to be happy by taking away the home I put so much work into? The home that I love and that you’ve told me you don’t care if you live in or not? You’re taking everything from me!”
 He rolls his eyes then proceeds to leave through the front door with not as much as a second glance. 
A small, gray cat walks towards the woman, and slaps her hand twice. The woman and the cat make eye contact. The cat whimpers a small meow, almost as pitiful as how the woman feels. She turns her head to look into the kitchen, where the cat’s water and food dishes are tipped sideways and spilled all over the floor. She pets her cat, happy to know that at least he loves her enough to bring attention to problems at hand. 
She stands up and walks up the stairs. Turning on the bathtub and closing the drain. She puts a hand in the shallow puddle of water that is slowly expanding. Her hand already looks ghostly; her body feeling as if it has already moved on. She floats back downstairs to fix the cat’s bowls, tears continue rolling down her face as she walks upstairs once more to tend to the bathtub. There is no more sound being made, just a continual ring noise inside her ears. She thinks to herself, “Is what I am hearing inside of me? Or is it around me?” She seems to not be able to locate the source of the ringing in her own senses, nor does she try that hard to discern it.
 She thinks to herself once more, “I am not a human anymore.” She takes another step, the ringing getting louder progressively up each step. “I am already dead.” She then takes another, pulling both feet into the upstairs hallway. “I am haunting this house. But for what purpose? So my soul can cry for all eternity? What joy does that bring anyone? Certainly not the next fucking person. What a joke.”
She steps into the bathroom, taking one last look around the empty bathroom before entering the bathtub. She can feel the aether move through her as she submerges each body part in the water. She sees that he left his straight razor resting on the edge of the bathtub. 
“Huh,” she smiles to herself, saying, “that bastard knows what he wants, doesn’t he?” She lifts the razor and runs the tips of her fingers across the blade. ”He must’ve sharpened it.”
Her blood seeps out in a solid straight line left by the blade. It rolls down her hands and drips into the water below. The bright red swirls around silently as if waltzing with the water. “You win, babe. I’ll just finish the job for you since you can’t do anything right anyways.”
 She grips the razor tightly in her hand and in the next moment she feels she can now describe the feeling of nothing; a roomtemperature warmth of emptiness. But the…It feels like another living being is finally embracing her, holding her sweetly… gently… like a lover unseen. She had been chasing a fleeting happiness her entire life, only to find it at death's door.