The Meaningless Life of Autumn Rose
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She drank slowly from her glass, while eyeing the college students on Spring break. They were handsome boys who were not quite yet men, flirting heavily with inebriated college girls. One of the girls squealed as she was hoisted up into the air. Oh honey, thought Autumn. You are doing it all wrong. Autumn sipped from her glass again, annoyed it was already empty. She slammed the glass down on the table and barked out a swift command to a passing cabana boy. She rose to her feet in a wobbly manner, and sauntered over to the college students.
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She walked right between two of the young men. She gently brushed against one of them as she coyly looked over her shoulder. And then downed one of their drinks handing the empty glass to one of the girls, a condescending gesture. She walked seductively back to her spot under the lanai.
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Autumn didn't hear them, but as she walked back the shocked young men erupted into guffaws, mocking Autumn. "I think she wants you dude!" As Autumn eased back into her Beach chair she reminisced about her younger days. She had men eating out of hand. Slobbering over her like weak minded domesticated dogs. And to Autumn that is what men were. Dogs for her to take command of and order around. But now Autumn was a much older woman. Her youth had somehow escaped her. She raised her drink and finished it off. Savoring the comforting burning sensation as it slide down her throat. As the alcohol took effect, it eased the denial and hushed her reality.
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Autumn had enough of the college students and their boisterous partying, she returned to her home. Autumn lived alone. She did little with her time except drink the days away and enjoy the warm weather. She lived a pampered life she could not appreciate. For she was born into wealth and married into even greater wealth. She never endured any kind of hardship or tragedy. Autumn had rarely ever been inconvenienced in life. But when she was she flew into a rage. Autumn poured herself another Scotch. She was about to relax in her jacuzzi when her doorbell rang.
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It was one of the young men she flirted with earlier. She was surprised to see him. He was drunk, but he wanted to talk. Autumn smiled to herself, another dog to toy with. Curious she let him in. He began to talk. He was concerned about a girl he liked and wanted her advice. Autumn listened as he rambled on and on. She quickly became bored of the young man's endless whining about the girl. She wanted to tell him what a spineless bore he was. How she used to eat men like him alive. Or maybe scold him for his sense of entitlement. Something that Autumn noticed was prevalent among today's youth. And just like that he stopped. He seemed at a loss for words as he collected himself. He said something about having to get going, leaving Autumn alone in stunned silence.
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Autumn had made herself available to the young man. But he had done something much worse than ignore her open invitations, he simply didn't even notice. The reality washed over her as she reached for a cigarette, annoyed she could not immediately obtain one she rose from her seat. With her drink in her hand she passed by a mirror and was stunned by what she saw looking back. A much older overly tan woman. She had heavy wrinkles. Her make up had slightly run. The skin around her knees sagged, as did her once supple breasts. She self consciously wrapped her arm around her stomach, not wanting to see just how much of her stunning beauty had faded away. She stared into her drink. Now no amount of alcohol could mask the reality of what was forever lost.
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When she was younger and had friends. They used to mock the rich old drunk women as they shuffled around with canes and walkers. Her friends would tease her. Saying that would be her one day. Autumn swore to them she would kill herself before she would ever let that happen. But now it seemed Autumn was only a few years away from that reality.
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Autumn took a long drag on her cigarette, somewhat stunned because she did not recall getting it. Autumn lost herself in the memories of her life. She had no kids, no known relatives. All of her friends were out of her life. Lost over petty squabbles, men, and time itself. She had been married twice. Her first husband was dead, the bastard. The second she wished was dead.
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Autumn realized that no amount of alcohol could conceal the truth of her meaningless life. And it was then she heard the disembodied voice of her late husband call her name. It came from the bedroom. She wandered in and looked around and saw no one. He called her again, but this time it came from the large walk in closet. Emboldened by drunkenness she threw the doors open, nothing. But high on a shelf in the far corner a glint of metal caught her eyes. It was the lock box that contained the gun her late husband gave her.
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She reached up and pulled it down. She walked out of the closet and placed it on the bed, it wasn't locked. Autumn's husband had showed her how to fire the gun on a few occasions. They never went to a shooting range. That was for common people. Instead they simply fired away carelessly in the back yard of her late husband's estate.
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Autumn reached in and removed the gun from it's case. She gripped the cold steel, pressing it firmly into the palm of her hand. She checked to make sure it was loaded. She raised the gun to her head. And then, with merely a thought she pulled the trigger, killing herself instantly. Autumn Rose proved to herself and her friends that she really wouldn't become one of those drunken old ladies.
