Patient Zero

No one chooses to be born.

A few choose to die.

Fewer still choose to live.

Mark had come to the bridge to choose. But instead he’d ended up perching on the rail like some weary crow, a coward, waiting for the buffeting winds to make the decision for him.

“This is all there is.”

Cruel words for a mother to speak to her son, but like it or not, he had heard them. And in the weeks and months that followed her death—which had been slow torture enough—the words turned in him and writhed like living things, with teeth and venom and terrible hearts.

“This is all there is.”

The simplest ideas have the most profound power to infect the mind. They are an incurable disease, and words are the carrier.

Mark smiled and leaned over the edge. Below, the river was white with excitement, bearing its rocky teeth to the sky. Foaming at the mouth. Awaiting its meal. Surely one crow, one tiny, diseased crow, wouldn’t be food enough for such a hungry river.

“This is all there is.”

The words echoed one last time before Mark jumped, and finally he knew them for the truth. His fear left him and his senses awoke: the sunlight put fire to his eyes; the scent of pine and water swept in with every breath; and the wind gave a terrific roar.

Mark–no longer a crow–took flight, tethered by the thin cord at his ankle and nothing more.

No one chooses to be born.

A few choose to die.

Fewer still choose to live.

This week’s Trifecta Writing Challenge word was Infect. Let me know what you think in the comments section below and, of course, check out all the other entries over at Trifecta!

More and more people join in every week, so if you haven’t yet, you should definitely give it a try!