"Dora, I'm not coming."

"I'm really going to do it this time Mark, I mean it. I have to see you."

"You've said that every time. I am not coming. It's over. It's been over. When are you going to understand that?"

"I can't understand it because I know you don't mean it. I have to see you or I swear, I'll do it this time." She hung up. 

Hmmm, should I drape myself gracefully in a tub full of bubbles, or put that peignoir on he loves so much. Yeah, the peignoir, it'll really get him when he sees the drops of blood on it. Why do men have to be so difficult?

Humming to herself, Dora collected her props. First she went into the kitchen, pulled out a chilled bottle of wine, popped the cork and slugging straight from the bottle took a few tranquilizers. Then she poured most of them down the sink from the recently filled bottle. The wine poured into a crystal goblet caught the reflection of the overhead light causing her to giggle. She turned the light off and put the wine and tranquilizer bottle on the rim of the tub. She started a bath with her best salts and put on the blue gown. He always says this makes my eyes look so blue. 

She stepped into the tub and laid back. She giggled again as the lowered bathroom lights flickered off the silver razor he'd bought her. He'd even had her initials engraved. He really is sweet, just so stubborn at times. He knows we are meant to be together. She shook out a few more pills for courage because she couldn't stand pain, well her own. She was unaware anyone else ever suffered. She gently nicked a vein on each hand where a scar would never show. 

She used her matching hand mirror after she arranged herself in the tub to make sure she had just the right look, the helpless one that no man could resist. Frowning, she pushed a burnished lock back into place and smiled. The blood was going well, dripping in all the right spots. She sipped her wine. She felt deliciously sleepy and knew it was almost time for him to arrive. She leaned back, allowing her mind to drift. She smiled at past images of them together, reflections from this night from the lights as if they had been stage lights helping her on her mission. She felt weightless in the water although her limbs had taken on that heavy feeling from too many tranquilizers. She suddenly saw another reflection in her drugged mind and tried to lift heavy lids and heavy arms to get her out of the tub and to a phone. It was his key shining on the kitchen table where he'd left it a month ago. She was sinking under the water. I forgot to unlock the damn door.