AUTHOR'S NOTE AND WARNING TO READERS: This is a love story, though it does contain several graphic sexual scenes. Please look at the tags and make sure that you're comfortable with them all. Furthermore, it has moments of sadness within, and deals with some rather difficult topics - but in a healthy way, hopefully. And who knows? Perhaps it has a happy ending?
This is my contribution for the
Winter Holidays Story Contest 2023
- So I'd be thankful if you could please leave a rating at the end.
This is a work of fiction, and everyone in the story is eighteen or older.
All of my stories are copyrighted.
--- THE (UN)LUCKY GIRL ---
There was so much snow on the rooftops that they risked caving in. The whole world seemed to be painted white, the monotony only being broken up by the salted asphalt and the Christmas decorations hung along Central Street. The evergreen boughs and red ribbons were a jarring reminder of the holiday season that was swiftly approaching, though Marcellus didn't care much for such traditions. He had no known family, and his memories of Christmas celebrated at the orphanage when he was younger were far from pleasant. Now he was cursing silently under his breath.
"That's fucking great.." he muttered as he saw the last bus of the night drive off a mere thirty seconds prior to his arrival. The commuter train had been delayed due to 'signal error', whatever that meant - and now he had arrived in the small town where he rented an apartment, just a tad too late to make the connection. This would mean he'd have to walk home - a full 35 minute trek - and the weather was absolutely freezing, the winter winds lashing against his face and the thin layers of clothing he wore. His coat was more suited for the autumn than the harshly chilling weather, and he had no scarf or winter hat to speak of. At least the black leather gloves helped some.
Shivering, he glanced at the snowflakes that fluttered down to the ground in a flurry of dancing shapes and sensations that was more irritating than fascinating in his current mood - praying he'd make it home before succumbing to hypothermia. His dress shoes felt slippery on the frozen asphalt, and he cursed his workplace for forcing him to wear a suit despite the snow and the bitter cold - but nonetheless, he began walking through the bus station plaza. Walking down the streets, he paid attention to the houses, which all looked the same in this part of the city. Christmas decorations in the windows, festive lights adorning every porch - the illumination dazzling across the bleak night. At least the town was clean enough and well maintained - no broken fences, garbage piled up on corners, or cracked pavement. There was hardly a car on the streets, the clock being slightly past midnight - and the town's population wasn't much higher than 5,000 people. It was a place where people came to live the simple, quiet life - yet it was only a 30 minute commute into Stockholm.
He kept walking for a long time, feeling melancholy. Marcellus felt displeased about where he had ended up in life. A corporate drone that was too young to be an actual member of society but too old to be regarded as a kid. Despite his wits, which he felt was his best feature, he felt like the world just didn't care about him - and that it never had. His long hair fell down his face, hiding the frustration he felt deep in his heart. The moonlight bathed the world in a soft blue hue, reflecting off the freshly fallen snow - which would have been beautiful if he'd take the time to appreciate it, but he didn't. Instead, his gaze was locked onto the ground a mere few feet in front of him, keeping his head tilted forward to avoid the whistling winds kicking too much snow into his face.
But he looked up just in time. Just in time to see her - a young woman - climb onto the railing of the bridge he was just about to cross, gazing into the icy dark waters below, not quite frozen over yet. Even from a distance, he could see the sorrow painted upon her face - and her puffy red cheeks implied she might have been crying. He stopped, eyes wide with worry and apprehension for the briefest of moments, before his instincts kicked in.
"Hey!" he shouted, "Don't do it!" Marcellus started running, the woman looking over at him with an expression of bewilderment and fear. As if she was caught doing something she should have known better than to attempt. Yet, her response to him had a defiant tone to it.
"Why not!?" she yelled back at him, "Just leave me alone!" Her voice was soft and high-pitched, but strong and assertive in tone. And so were her words.
Marcellus kept running toward her, quickly closing the distance. "Come on, we can talk about this!" he cried out, his heart caught in an unpleasant rush and his stomach fluttering with worry, "We can get help from someone!"
"Don't come any closer or I'll jump!" the girl threatened, even as she hesitated to move. She was visibly shaking by that point, and tears flowed freely from her eyes - her footing seemingly uneven as she balanced on top of the metal railing. The bridge wasn't exceptionally far up, but the shock of being submerged into cold water was likely enough to be fatal. The black depths would easily suck her down, and her lungs would struggle against the freezing temperatures - and swimming with thick winter clothes on was no easy feat even in the best of conditions.
Marcellus slowed down to a stop before reaching the girl, trying his best to keep a neutral face - holding his hands up as if to show he was no threat, not wanting to agitate the young woman in any way. "Please, get down," he asked her, "You won't solve anything by doing this." The young man was not sure why he cared so much about a total stranger, but he did. There was a deep, inherent sense of right and wrong inside of him, and life was precious - but more so, he could relate to her pain, having struggled with depression for all of his life, and having attempted to take his own life once as young as ten. "What's your name?"
The woman's head jerked to the side, as if she was a scared puppy trying to avoid eye contact. Her gaze was downcast as she mumbled her reply. "Selena," she said, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear - as black as night itself. "But why do you care? Please just go away!"
Marcellus frowned. "I know what it's like to be in pain," he said - trying to reach some sort of common ground. "I won't judge, okay? You can trust me." He lowered his arms and started to inch closer. "What's hurting you?" he asked gently, not wanting to scare her off.
It took a few moments for Selena to reply, and her answer was surprising to Marcellus - and even more so due to the sheer power behind it. Her eyes filled with tears, her expression turning from defiant to fearful and sad. "I'm dying anyways," she said, sniffling and trying to hold back a sob - which made Marcellus pause. "Brain tumour." The girl said nothing else, but it was clear that she had come to this decision all too recently, her emotional state in turmoil.