Freed

Note: A short scene about two internet friends seeking each other out to end the torment in their lives.




She jumped when the door to her small London flat was knocked, and for a brief moment fear clogged her throat. She glanced at the plain clock hanging
on the wall above the kitchen counter. Dead on 12. She let out the breath that she'd been holding and hurriedly unbolted the door, peering out at the tall young man
standing there waiting patiently. "Hey, come on in" she pulled the door open further, shaking her long shaggy hair into her face so he wouldn't see the dark bruise
forming on her aching cheek. He entered hesitantly, looking round at the small, untidy living room. Beer cans littered the coffee table, dirty plates and noodle pots
piled up on the floor beside it. "Sorry about the mess, he hates me cleaning up after him" she murmured as she shut the door and locked it again.


The twenty-year-old leaned against the wall next to the window, peering out at the busy streets below. "He'll be back in a few hours, so you can't stay long" she
said to break the icy silence. He nodded, unable to meet her eyes. "Would you like a drink?" she asked, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. The young man was
very good-looking, and it made her nervous being in such close quarters with him. She just hoped her husband didn't come back earlier than expected.


He shook his head, "Sorry to insist on coming here, but I really wanted to meet you in person. The internet is great and all, but I needed to know you were real...
that you were who you said you were". He held his arms folded across his chest, shoulders haunched as he peered up at her face from beneath long lashes. She
shrugged and walked over to sit in the armchair, motioning for him to take a seat too, but he didn't move from his spot against the wall. "That's understandable. It
made me a little nervous knowing you were coming here. I mean, it's a big risk. If my husband finds you here, I don't know what he'll do" she said quietly, wringing
her hands together as she pictured his angry, hateful eyes glaring at her as the punches rained down over and over, as if they'd never stop.


A humourless laugh escaped the man's lips. "I don't think there's anything he could do worse than what my father has done to me" he stared at her, waiting for her
to respond. He hurried over as tears spilled from her eyes, and he knelt before her, hands covering her trembling ones. "We can't go on like this anymore. Just think
about it. Neither of us will ever be free from them, but we can be free together". Her gaze flew to his, searching his face with confusion.


"Let's do it. Let's end it, I'll be with you all the way" he whispered desperately, the look of longing on his face was evident. She understood then, she finally knew
what he meant. "Really? Will it be over? What if he gets with another woman and treats her the same?" she asked, though she knew she was in denial. She was
prolonging the inevitable. She knew what had to be done to be free of him and leave him with nothing. The man only watched her, until she made her decision. She
stood up and hurried into the bedroom, rummaging around until she drew out a notepad and an almost-empty pen. She wrote the note quickly, making sure to
mention how he had beaten her, that whoever found the note would know what her husband was capable of.


She folded the note when she'd finished and stuffed it in the right cup of her bra, knowing it would definitely be seen when her body was examined. The thought
made more tears begin to fall, and fear clogged her throat. After a few deep breaths, she stumbled back out into the living room, finding her only friend waiting by
the balcony doors. He held out his hand to her, a sad smile on his handsome face. She wished she could stop shaking, but he didn't seem to mind or notice.


"Don't let go of me" she managed to whisper, though a sob followed her words. He looked determined, even as sympathy clouded his eyes for a few seconds.
He took her hand gently and opened the balcony doors, "I won't let go of you. As I said, we'll be freed together". They stepped out onto the balcony, looking down
at the unsuspecting people passing by below. He climbed over the railing and helped her over too, one hand holding hers as the other gripped the rail behind him.


They looked at one another and he said, "I wrote a note too. It's in my coat pocket. I just hope they believe every word...I've never told anyone but you before".
She could do nothing but smile sadly back at him, and squeeze his hand in understanding. "It was nice knowing you in this life Sal, hopefully we'll see each other again"
he murmured quietly, eyes staring into hers. She nodded, "It was nice knowing you too Brad, I know I'll see you again".


With that, they tightened their grip on one another's hand, and kept staring at each other even as they pitched forwards and fell eighteen storeys down, the solid
concrete the last thing they felt before they were finally, free.