Hopeless

Warning: the below story contains graphic imagery, suicide, alcohol abuse, death, mental health issues, and is overall very dark in content. Beware.

"Hope! Wait- no no no no... please!" Selina sprints toward Hope, whose concrete-encased feet are dangling from the pier's edge. An empty vodka bottle in her lover's hand. 

Of course, Selina hadn't meant to disappear for 5 years. But intent doesn't mean much. It's impact that matters. And Hope, poor codependent Hope, had been struggling all alone for five years genuinely believing that the love of her life, the only person she'd ever trusted, was dead and gone.

And now Hope intended to join her love. Yet, again intent doesn't matter. If she should succeed she'll be leaving her beloved Selina all alone. Alone to bear the burden of unintentionally killing her wife. Alone to slowly die of a broken and empty heart.

Unfortunately for them both, Selina just crawled her way out of death's claws herself, a large and gushing gash in her thigh. So her sprint is more of a weak hobble. Her lungs heaving, her limbs burning, and her eyes barely staying open, Selina fights to get to her beloved Hope. 

If only Hope could hear Selina’s cries and pleas. If only she wasn’t listening to music reflecting her sorrow. If only their stories were just a few pages longer. What Selina would do for just five more minutes, just to tell Hope how much she loves her one last time. Maybe in another life things would’ve been easier, they wouldn’t have been separated. Alas, this is not that life. 

Selina can feel her limbs grow ever heavier, more tired, life draining from her veins. More of her life essence is spilled in the fluffy red snow surrounding her than in her body. Yet still, she fights on, desperate to hear her beloved’s voice one last time. 

Memories flash before her eyes. All the times that she and Hope had held each other as the other cried, supported each other through the darkest of times. Hope had always used to joke that if they ever left each other they’d both drop dead. The bitter irony isn’t lost on her. 

Pained sobs now fall from Hope’s lips as she contemplates her own mortality and reflects on her painful journey through life, all the horrors that she’s survived. She had always known she’d end up taking her own life, that she was the only one strong enough to take her out. Though, that didn’t stop others from trying, of course they did. Now all those people would get what they wanted. Would they celebrate? Would her death be considered a victory or a tragedy? Or both? She’ll never know.

Selina gets weaker still as she now crawls through the snow. Hope still painfully beyond her reach. Would she make it in time? She hoped she would, but deep down she knew she was only making her final moments more painful. The icy wind cuts her deeper than the knife had. What cuts even deeper is that Hope will never know that her lover died trying to reach her. This thought brings droplets cascading down Selina’s cheeks, droplets that instantly freeze. Much like the crimson fluid leaking from her leg.

With one final cry of agony, Hope pushes off into the frosty waters below, just as Selina’s fingers graze her back. Hope is swallowed by dark frigidness knowing that her lover was just behind her, trying to stop her. The alcohol in her system weakening her far too much for her to counteract the heavy concrete. Does that stop her from trying? Of course not. This is Hope we’re talking about. The woman who swore that if she ever went down it would be swinging. Swore she’d fight til her very last breath. Hope is a woman of her word after all. She always follows through on her promises. Even now as her body becomes cold as ice and her limbs stop obeying her. Her lungs become flooded and her motion ceases. All while Selina watches. Watches her beloved sink into oblivion, watches the fight leave Hope along with her life. Even in the face of death, Hope’s final bits of consciousness are spent praying to a god she doesn't believe in that Selina will be okay.

Unfortunately, her prayers will go unanswered. As Selina watches Hope’s death with wide, unblinking, teary eyes she can feel her own death taking hold. Shivering and exhausted her body finally gives out, no longer answering her demands to move. If she could just climb in after Hope, maybe she could save her. Or at least they could die together, in one another’s arms. But no. That would be too merciful. Is this their punishment? Selina knew the years of espionage, betrayal, killing, and looting would catch up to them. She had just hoped they could be together when it did. 

Another wave of grief strikes Selina as she realizes that she and Hope would forever be remembered as Grim and Reaper. The infamous rogue duo. They’d taken down plenty of criminal organizations, but they would only be remembered for the violence of their acts, not the intent behind them. After all, intent doesn’t matter. No one else will know their intentions, or see the misguided attempts they were making. No one would see the good in them. They’d be immortalized as Grim and Reaper. Not Selina and Hope. The only ones who were able to see through their tough exteriors were as dead as Selina was about to be. 

Selina cries and sobs about the tragedy of it all. “It’s not fair! We didn’t derserve this!” she screams out into the freezing void. Their stories will never be told, only one side of their history will ever be known. Their legacy will be one of tragedy and sorrow, just as their creation was. How perfectly bitter.

Her final moments are filled with physical and emotional agony as the last of her blood seeps out into the wooden pier below her. Selina’s tears joined with Hope’s in the icy waters. Maybe she’ll finally be at peace, maybe her fight is over. Then again, maybe not.