It began one late morning. Risky dreariness had already begun to slide to the brink. Waking up to face another moment of life didn't feel good, but she got up. The thicker curtains had been pulled back, and the sun came in. She didn't feel good.
A maid knocked on her door. The maid asked, "Miss, you have been asked to brunch on the porch."
The door stayed closed.
"Tell them I don't want to," she yauned.
"Yes, Miss. Also, a package came addressed to you stamped 'urgent'," the maid informed her.
Her weariness left replaced by anxiety. The package.
"Bring the package in!"
"Yes, Miss." The maid walked to retrieve the package.
In the room, Becca heard the maid return. She asked her to leave the package by the door and leave, and the maid did. When the maid's footsteps seemed faraway, she opened her bedroom door, and took the brown paper package.
She cut the string, holding the package closed, and inside, bundled in some paper, was a small glass vile. Becca gained more energy as she went to her bedside table to get the glass of water. The contents of the vile went into the water, and urgently drank it.
Dizziness came, then pain, and a moment before she blacked out, she regreted trying to kill herself.

The tall windows opened, and a rush of wind came in, as did a figure.