The Awakening: A Fictional Narrative

Edna stood in the dark street, terrified and completely confused. People passed by her, oblivious to her obvious fear and pain. It was night, the darkest night imaginable. She couldn’t remember her name, where she worked, or where she even lived. The crowd stared, quietly laughing at her misery. They just didn’t seem to understand what she was going through. Edna felt like a sideshow attraction. Given the circumstances, she couldn’t feel like anything else. After all, she had just murdered someone. As time progressed, the crowd grew unusually large. Edna didn’t say one word; she simply stared back at them. She was empty inside. She didn’t feel happiness, or joy, or anything worth feeling. Her capacity to feel pleasure had been taken away from her. An image kept

In the photo, she was kissing Jeff, zealously wrapping her tongue around his mouth. Edna paused, defenseless against the overwhelming evidence.
“Do you remember when we first met, the day you decided to visit my house?”
“Why?”
“The minute I saw Jeff, I knew I wanted him. I looked at him, he looked at me. We were together, just me and him. I told him to leave you, and sure enough, he agreed. He refused to tell you himself, the coward. He sent me to do his dirty work. So, what’s the verdict, did I do good?”
Edna didn’t respond. She started to shake, uncontrollably so. She gazed at Barbara, the deepest hatred in her eyes. Barbara stared back, her eyes full of bewilderment. Edna leapt forward, loudly screaming and crying. She tackled Barbara and forced her to the floor. Barbara screamed, uncanny in her ability to call for help. No matter how loud she got, it was a useless attempt.
Edna placed her arms around her throat. Barbara squealed, thirsty for air. The screams became moans, the moans became gasps. It was clear, Edna was killing Barbara. Barbara glared at the ceiling, the darkness overtaking her. Edna loosened her hands, satisfaction in her vengeful