Ellen’s Second Chance

Trigger warning: This story talks about suicide.

The one and only time that Ellen tried to kill herself didn’t go as planned. She failed to die, a fact which was painfully obvious as she popped out of the river like a champagne cork let loose on New Year’s Eve. Sputtering Ellen flailed her arms against the current. She fought so hard that, in the 15 minutes it took to reach the beach, Ellen completely forgot that she had wanted to die.

Her original goal came back to her as she lay flat on her back, gasping like a landed fish. Ellen’s suicide attempt had, like everything else in her life, been a total flop.

Not that she was surprised. This year, it seemed, was full of failures. It was new territory for Ellen who, not long ago, had always been so very sure of herself. When a door closed, she prided herself on being the one who always found the open window. 

Except this year when, without any warning, Ellen found herself dropped in a room without any windows. She had spent months scrabbling in the dark, looking for some kind of crack in the unyielding walls. If she could only find a little purchase, Ellen knew she could dig in her fingers and pry her way out. If there wasn’t a window, she would make one.

For endless weeks, Ellen whispered empowering mantras to herself as she clawed in the dark. When her knuckles began to bleed, she threw herself at the walls. When her body began to ache, she screamed at the top of her lungs. When her voice finally gave out, she collapsed in defeat — and she told herself it was all of her fault. Everyone said to never give up but what if giving up was the only way out? 

At least with her own suicide, Ellen thought she might finally see something through to the end. 

She had researched how much cremation would cost and left the exact amount in a check on the kitchen counter in lieu of a note. 

She had bought a new outfit in shades of highlighter yellow to make it easier on the search and rescue team to find her dead body. 

She had walked to the bridge so there would be no car to move afterwards. 

At least in death, Ellen vowed to leave no loose ends, and yet, here she was, on the banks of the river where, if everything had gone as she’d planned, she should currently be floating face down. 

Beneath her on the beach, rocks jabbed into her back. Achingly alive, Ellen sat up. She put her elbows on her knees, chin in her hands, and gazed out at the river. It winked at her mockingly. Best laid plans.

“Well,” she finally said to herself. “I’ll just have to try again.”

With that, Ellen pushed to her feet and brushed herself off. She carefully picked her way back up the beach so as not to fall to her knees. It was only when Ellen was nearly back to the bridge that she stopped dead in her tracks. An errant thought had just crossed her mind, a wayward dandelion seed of an idea that, weed that it was, took root and spread.

What if she failed once again? Ellen didn’t think she could face herself if she tried a second time to die only to live. How pathetic would that be, and how very like her, to so consistently fail. Classic Ellen.

Maybe, she thought, she wasn’t the one in the wrong. Perhaps it was everyone else. They could shove it with their “Try, try agains” and their “Better luck next times.” She’d had enough. Better to not try, Ellen decided. She threw her shoulders back, lifted her chin, and marched past the bridge.

Perhaps, Ellen mused as she turned toward home, not everything needed a second chance after all. 

I really didn’t think this story needed another 400 words — I kind of said everything I wanted to say — but the entry form wouldn’t let me submit if I didn’t hit 1,000, which is why I included this text (which also felt fitting for the theme of my story): The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end.The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end. The end.