Prompt: Why Didn't It Happen To Me?
Okay, I'll be honest. I get jealous easily. When something good happens to someone I know--be they friend, family, or foe--I think, "Why couldn't that be me? Why didn't that happen to me?"
So when Beth called me and told me she'd won the grant to do research in Spain for a month, I was thankful she couldn't see how green I turned. Sure, I said all the right words and, to some extent, I honestly meant them. But I also thought petty, angry things, about how I deserved it more and how her research wasn't really worth funding. To some extent, I honestly meant them too, but it was mostly just the jealousy speaking.
I helped her pack and even offered her a ride to the airport, trying to keep my demons from getting the upper hand on my better angels. Mostly I succeeded, even if I did have a few choice words for you, journal, late at night. But I saw Beth off with a smile on my face, the bitterness mostly eradicated.
Four hours later, we saw the news that her plane had gone down somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. There were no survivors.
Jealousy is a fickle beast. On a dime, you can go from, "Why not me?" to, "What if that were me?" But as I sat there at her funeral today, I kept thinking the same thought over and over.
Why didn't that happen to me?
Wow, there was a lot of heartrending emotion packed into this short piece and you told it well. Great job!
ReplyDeleteWow, I wasn't expecting such a sharp turn toward the end. You write short fiction really well!
ReplyDelete