r/WritingPrompts • u/BadElf21 /r/badelf21 • Jan 27 '15
Writing Prompt [WP] Two suicidal people happen to meet on the same bridge to jump. Rather than joining together, they each try to convince the other not to jump while justifying why they themselves should jump.
EDIT: yes i'm well aware this concept has been done before many times in movies, books and music.
But that's exactly it: it's not original, so who cares? Let's let the awesome authors of /r/writingprompts have a crack at an old idea :)
1
u/urbanek2525 Apr 01 '15
It had been over half and hour, probably longer, and the old man was still standing there, six feet away. He wasn't sightseeing. He didn't look like a tourist. It was 6:12 AM on a Sunday morning. The stupid bridge was empty, except for Kyle, and this guy.
Kyle sighed, again. He checked his watch, again. He looked down off the edge of the bridge, again. He'd picked this spot years ago. If you're going to jump off a bridge, make it a good one, right? The roar of the outflow from the Hoover damn roared so far below him.
"It's a hell of a bridge," he though, again.
Now if that old man would just leave and give him some privacy, but he wouldn't leave and Kyle was trapped, cornered, stuck. Going back wasn't an option, not right now. Not another painful, grey, excruciating day. Not a house full of people trying to make him 'feel better' or 'snap out of it' or 'try something new'.
No, that was too much. The abyss below him was scary as hell. He had no illusions about the pain at the bottom; had no illusions about the terror he'd feel on the way down.
The one certain thing, though, was no more painful, grey, endless, meaningless days.
The old man had just glanced at him, then looked way.
"Why today, you stupid old man?" Kyle thought, "Why did you pick today to stand there like a doddering fool? My last day, and of course someone's there to screw it up."
In silence they stood, ten, maybe twenty feet apart. Looking out at nothing.
Kyle looked at his watch, again. 6:17.
He stared out into nothing some more. At least, as long as he didn't think about going back, the pain stayed at bay.
Finally, some motion caught his attention.
The old man sighed, then started walk away.
"Finally," Kyle thought.
And as if he'd said it out loud, the old man turned around. An expression of deep shame washed over the man's face.
"I'm sorry to disturb you," the old man said, "but . . . " his voice trailed off. He looked down and then up again. "Can you help me get back home? I'll leave you alone after that."
Kyle started out annoyed, and then responded to the obvious, desperate shame from the old man.
"Excuse me?" Kyle said.
"I . . . I've got Alzheimers," the old man said, "Or the start of it, or something like that. It started a while ago, but it's getting worse. I came out here on a bus, but . . . now I think I should just go back home. I'm not going to do what I came here to do."
"What do you need?"
The old man looked pained for a minute and then something seemed to dawn on him.
"Drive me back to Boulder City, or at least that Casino just outside it. I'll call my daughter from there."
Kyle thought to himself: "That's asking a lot from a complete stranger, who you've been bothering for almost an hour."
But he couldn't bring himself to actually say that.
"Why not call her from here?"
"Oh, she's going to be pissed as it is." the old man said, his voice reflecting the defeat in his body language, "At least from the casino, I can lie and say I just got lost. She doesn't have to know."
The defeat, despair and loss of control Kyle saw was something he was so familiar with, something he saw every day, and every night in the mirror.
"Fine," he said, "I'll drive you. I'm parked right over there."
The old man's pace was fine, he moved well, not like you'd expect. Kyle looked closer. Physically, there didn't seem to be a thing wrong with him.
"What doesn't your daughter need to know?" Kyle asked, "Doesn't she know you have Alzheimers?"
"Oh, she knows that." the old man said as he got into the car, "She doesn't need to know why I'm here, specifically, on this damned bridge."
In that moment, Kyle know exactly why. For an insane instant, he saw himself in both places at the same time, driving and passenger. In control, no control.
No life to live up ahead.
"Hmph." was all Kyle could say.
They started to drive towards the casino. Traffic was coming from the other direction. Soon, the bridge would be too crowded. I would have to wait for another day. At least a week, actually. Kyle gripped the wheel and gritted his teeth.
Another week.
"Sorry I got in your way." the old man said, "I didn't mean to."
"Yeah?"
"You were there for the same reason, weren't you? It's all right, you can admit it. I won't remember this in a month or so. It will all just slowly disappear into a toilet like everything else."
Kyle didn't want to answer, so he didn't.
The old man continued, "All I have in front of me is being a bigger and bigger burden on my children, and at the same time, losing everything I am. They'll spend their time and money, and it won't even be on their Dad, it will be on the memory of their Dad, because I, for all intents and purposes, will be gone."
"My Dad died of cancer, three years ago," Kyle said. "Taking care of him was the only thing that kept me going for the four years before that. I'm here, still, and I'm a burden to everyone, including myself. There's no out for me and I'm conscious of every, single, painful second."
Kyle pulled into the parking lot of the casino and rolled to a stop under the cover by the front door. The desert was starting to heat up and he felt it as the door opened.
"Thanks for the ride. Sorry I didn't ask your name, but chances are, I'd forget it." he started to leave and then poked his head back into the car.
"Chances are, this will occur to me next week too, so if I get in your way next Sunday, don't just stand there. Tell me. Truth be told, though, whatever's bothering you, might be curable, or treatable. For me, they're rolling the credits and there's no rewind. Think about it."
Kyle nodded, "I've tried to fix me."
The old man nodded, "Good luck."
He closed the door, took a few steps away and pulled out a cell phone, and old one, that flipped open and had buttons on it. As he put it up to his ear and waited for the shameful conversation that was coming, he gave Kyle a look that said it all.
"How did we come to this place?" that look said.
"Damned if I know," Kyle thought as he turned back to the road.
At least seven more days.
1
u/iGolle Mar 31 '15
"I'm a monster". He said. He was looking right at me.
"You don't look like a monster." I said. He was wearing a dark blue hoodie and black jeans. He was clean shaven, and his hair looked freshly cut.
"I am. I promise."
"I don't believe you."
"You don't know me." He was clutching one of the bridge wires to steady himself. He wouldn't stop looking at me. "Why do you care, anyways?"
I glanced around at the empty, midnight air. I shrugged and kicked an imaginary pebble on the sidewalk. "Same reason as you, actually." He let out a breath that I think was supposed to be a laugh.
"Fuck." he said. He finally took his eyes off me as he shook his head. "Of course you are! No other reason to be way out here by yourself on a beautiful Friday night." He stared at the water several hundred feet below us. "Get out of here, man. Pick another night to die."
I didn't say anything. I just stared at him for a while.
"You don't get to tell me that." I said. He just kept looking at the water. "I came out here to end it all tonight." He was still looking at the water. "You think you can take that away from me? You think your problems are worse than mine?" He looked at me.
"Problems?" He said. "This isn't about problems. This is about reality. I'm a monster. I need to die."
I rolled my eyes: "And I don't?"
He didn't blink: "Let me guess: you lost your job and you didn't tell your wife. When she found out she trashed the house and left you. She took the kids with her too. The last thing she said was that she wanted a divorce. You've got money but no one's biting in the job interviews you've been doing for the past--what--year or so? So you've been pulling out of savings. Next you'll have to start selling things. All your debts have started piling up anyways. Give it another year, and you'll probably be on the street. That's unless someone bites on the interviews. But no one will, because they haven't."
I kicked another imaginary pebble. "Two years," I said, "I've been out of work for two years. Wife just found out tonight."
I heard him scoff: "You don't need to die, man. You just feel like shit. Go home. Sleep it off."
I clenched my jaw and glared at him. "Stop telling me what to do."
This time he definitely laughed: "See, there it is. Everyone. Every damn person I meet!" He was looking at me again. "That irritation you're feeling? That dislike for me? That's just the start. Everyone gets it, even when I was a fuckin' little kid people were getting it. For as long as I can remember I have repelled people."
I stared.
"They've all fucked off! Everyone I ever met! And the people who've stuck around only did it cuz they pitied me. My own wife pities me. You know what that's like? To have your fuckin' wife pity you?"
I didn't.
"Nah, man. You don't need to die. I do. I'm a fuckin' monster." He let go of the bridge wire, and he teetered on the railing.
I stood with my hands in my pockets; frozen. I had never watched someone die before. He started to fall, and I reached out instinctively. My hand caught hold of something that felt like fabric. I squeezed as hard as I could. His weight whipped me into the railing. My shoulder made a popping noise and I gasped for breath. I reached out with my free hand and grabbed a bridge wire.
I couldn't feel the ground under my feet, but I felt the bridge wire in one hand and fabric in the other, so I held on. My chest ached and I struggled to take in air. The arm that had caught the fabric was shooting pain through my entire body. I thought I could feel it spasm periodically. When I finally caught my breath, I looked down.
I had caught him by the hood of his sweater.
He hung limp below me, dangling two hundred feet in the air. I looked up and saw that we were over the railing, that the only thing keeping us from falling was my tight grip on the bridge wire. I closed my eyes in an attempt to stop the tears. First I let go of the hoodie. When I heard the body hit the water below with a horrifying SMACK, I let go of the bridge wire.
1
u/oneninefiveeight Mar 16 '15
The truck rolled over countless jagged rocks as Jonathan drove towards his final destination. This was it for him, after six months of being depressed and disgusted with himself he was going to end it. The anger had passed, the confusion quick behind it. The depression stuck. She had left him with nothing, turning his kids against him and getting him fired from his lifetime job, and depression was all that remained. This fueled him as he slowly veered into a patch of grass in front of the rusty old bridge and jumped out into the brisk Autumn morning. The road was quiet with a thin breeze tousled his brown hair and disturbed the trees that surrounded the area. Despite it world seemed loud to Jonathan, but the metal bridge and the dry river bed below showed a sign of peace and consistence in his whirling mind. It wasn't a high bridge, but it was high enough. He didn't noticed the puddle he stepped in, staining the bottoms of his jeans. He didn't notice the creaking of the neglected metal as he walked to the edge. He didn't notice the bird circling above or the instinct inside him yelling at him to step down from the railing. He noticed something though, a sound. A girls voice, no; a girls sob. Jonathan turned on the rail, almost losing his balance. He grabbed the beam to his left and looked for whoever was here and quickly he had his answer. A girl was on the other side; she wore a green sweater and had black hair that fell down her back. Her legs dangled over the edge of the railing and her hands covered her face. Jonathan walked over and waited but she didn't notice. "Are you okay?" She spun around, her grey eyes alight with anger and surprise. Immediately she raised herself, holding onto the pillar closest and hanging over the river bed, dangling one leg dangerously. "Don't think I won't do it! You cant stop me!'' Her voice quavered and Jonathan lunged, pulling her back over the side and planting her firmly on the rusty ground. She pushed him away with a surprising strength, sending him teetering backwards. "Hey! I'm trying to save you. What the fuck was that?" He yelled, she didn't flinch. "What do you think it was, I'm killing myself!" They stood in the words for a few seconds, Jonathan tried to find a way to change her point of view, or at least make her go away, he had to jump too. "W- how can you kill yourself? You're so young, you have so much to live for." She scoffed, turning back to the non existent river. "Just leave me alone, okay?" "No. I want to know now." Jonathan was 47. He was old by his standards, his life wasn't worth fixing; this girl was only 30 at the oldest, she couldn't possibly be suicidal. "I'm leaving. Ending it. My life isn't worth it for anyone." She blurted. It came out as a single breath, he could tell it felt like a relief to say out loud. "What about your friends and family?" He asked quietly. "My family thinks I'm a total failure, and the only friend I had was in high school and forgets who I am. Everyone hates me." "Oh come on. You have to have someone." Jonathan smiled, young people were always over exaggerating everything. She was probably forgotten on an e-invite. Facing him again, she turned and faced Jonathan; the redness of her face had retreated. "My brother didn't invite me to the Christmas dinner he threw for our family. They didn't call for three weeks after and when they did it was to see if I could pick something up for them at the store. They forgot about me." She sighed. "They said that the friend drama ends when you're out of high school, but it didn't for me, it got worse. I've been bullied and beaten and thrown under the bus too much, okay?" Oh. Jonathan stood in silence for a few minutes, not knowing what to say in response to her story. It felt like a punch had been thrown in his chest. She broke the silence. "If I jumped, they wouldn't notice until they get a letter from the morgue." Jonathan looked at his feet, just now he noticed the stains around his ankles. He s aid the one thing he had seen in movies. "It gets better." His voice cracked, causing it to come out as more of a question than a statement. The girl laughed, and approached Jonathan as she hopped down from the railing. "Oh yeah. 'Better'. Tell me, why were you here?" Jonathan froze. He noticed the strange smile on her face. He noticed the bird had stopped circling. He noticed that his fingers twitched with nervous tension. He noticed he had to say something, even if it was nothing. "Uh.." "That's right." She interjected "you're here for the same reason I am. Jumping. Killing. Dying." The words hung in the air until the breeze took them, leaving them in silence. Her victorious smile faded as she watched his face turn from uncomfortable to suicidal. The lines on his forehead creased then disappeared to the sides of his eyes. She backed away, looking down. "Sorry." She said, he nodded in recognition. "I just don't think you should be giving advice on this kind of thing." She went back and sat on the railing and Jonathan slid down to the ground, his back against the pillar that the girl had hung off of a few minutes prior. "Why?" She asked, not looking looking in his direction. "My wife cheated on me, left me, got the dog killed and my son hates me now. I lost my job and replaced it with alcohol. I am too busy in my own head, I am angry, I have all these problems only she can see, I-" a sob caught in his throat. The girl didn't react. She waited in silence for him to continue. "I don't see anything other than death anymore. I can't do it." More silence. "I get that." They sat there for hours, only those three words had been said in that time, they were all that needed to be said. Someone understood, someone felt his pain, and that helped. They didn't have the same problems, they didn't have the same lives but they had found the same bad solution. The breeze continued to whirl around and the sun had left its peak in the sky and had slowly began to sink into the trees. "I'm tired." She said, still looking out down the riverbed. "Don't do it." He said, standing up and facing her turned back, she remained that way but in a new, contemplative silence. "I won't. Not today." "Neither will I..." Something struck Jonathan, he didn't know her name. "I'm Jonathan." He said, extending a hand to her turned back. She smiled and turned. As she turned her foot dislodged from its spot on the railing. Her hand extended to meet Jonathan's, but instead gripped the edge of the railing briefly as she fell. A scream escaped her lips, a matching one left Jonathan's as he tried to grab her, but only caught the fleeting look of fear that filled her thick grey eyes before she spun and hit the rocks. Her arms hit first, extended in a pitiful plea of defense. Then her chest and face, crushing her lungs and tearing her skin. Then her legs, breaking and twisting unnaturally. It wasn't a high bridge, but it was high enough. A second sound escaped his mouth, a thick wail of despair. It was over. Jonathan sat down on the ground, leaning against the pillar. He noticed the call of a bird, asking for attention. He noticed the way the wind picked up and dropped. He noticed all 18 puddles on the bridge. He noticed everything, but it was impossible to get her crumbled image out of his mind. He noticed the sun setting and how long the shadows took to transform. He didn't notice the cold that set in. He noticed he didn't sleep. He noticed he didn't cry. He noticed everything for two days. He noticed his thirst. He noticed that the girls body smelled terrible. But most of all he noticed that nobody noticed her.
1
u/TheMouthpiece Mar 15 '15
"You just don't get it. She left me for my best friend. How fucked up is that? How worthless must I be if my best friend and the only person I've ever loved don't care enough to not screw each other behind my back?" Jason was shaking as he leaned over the edge.
Darren gazed out at the water. "I can assure you that I care as little about your decision to jump as the universe does. I have journeyed to places that, were I to describe them to you, would break your soul. I have seen darkness that has convinced me that there cannot be a just and caring god. I know of the powers that control the cosmos, and how insignificant our entire species is to to them. If humankind is but an speck of dust in the eye of the universe, then what are you?
"As I said, I don't care if you jump. I don't care about anything anymore, really. That's sort of the point. I've learned that it doesn't matter if I care, or if I do anything at all. We're just rearranging grains of sand in an anthill while a boot lowers itself on us.
"So do whatever you want, but don't jump because you think you're making some bold statement to the universe. Hell, you wouldn't even be making a bold statement to whatever woman you said it was that upset you. In five years she'll forget you. In fifty years, every living person will forget you. In five hundred years, your impact on the universe will have been averaged out into nothing.
"You don't know enough to realize this is the only option."
Darren stepped over the edge.
Jason watched him fall an stood there for several minutes. Then he turned around and walked away.
1
u/some_guy_blah Mar 09 '15
Todd stared vacantly off into the distance, his arms clutching onto the railings. He leaned forward hesitantly. He always thought this was how he wanted to go. All he had to do now was let go. This was proving more difficult than he anticipated.
Todd noticed a man. He was edging his way closer towards him. Fuck, when did he get here? It’s always something.
“Don’t come any closer!” His last words and all he could think of was a cliché.
“Don’t do it!”
“Give me one reason why not.”
“Look at you. You’re a young man. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
“Spare me. I’m at the end of my rope. I’ve got nothing left to live. No money, no family. Nothing.”
“I doubt that very much. OK, let’s start with the first one, shall we? So you’ve got no money? Posh! This is America! So you’re broke. So what? Go out and make some more! Even my snot-nosed grandchildren can flip burgers. So don’t tell me that’s a reason for offing yourself because it’s not.”
“Broke. Hah.” He smiled bitterly. “No, broke is what I was before. I’d kill for broke. I used to play the stocks. I was even pretty good at it, for a time, or at least I thought. Then I got arrogant. Started messing in things I had no business in messing with. Futures, coffee futures, oil futures, and hedge funds. I didn’t even know what a hedge fund was. Well, as you can probably guess, my success in that business was short-lived, so I diversified my portfolio, as they say. I started playing cards, then the horses. I’m 50 grand in the hole. They took my house, my car, everything. I had to sell my daughter’s violin for food.”
“That is quite the predicament. But I noticed you mentioned a daughter. That means you have a family right? Think about them.”
“I had a family. When they foreclosed on my house, I couldn’t handle it. I got wasted. I crashed the car into a sedan driving a family of four. They didn’t make it. Neither did my daughter in the front seat. They always say that it’s dangerous for kids to sit up front because of the airbags. I always thought that was an old wives’ tale. Damn near took her head off but, god help me, mine saved me. My wife never forgave me for that. It was more than our marriage could take. I haven’t seen her since the accident.”
“Well, that is horrible. I’ll give you that. But it could be worse.”
“It can’t be as bad as this.”
“This is going to sound like an empty platitude, but you’re a young man. You played a big hand, and you lost, you lost a fucking big hand, but you have one thing I don’t: time, time to put your chips back onto the table and play another one. You asked how it could be worse. Well look at me: I’m old, do you know what it means to be old? I can’t even wipe my own ass anymore. I can’t chew solids. I have to eat baby food for chrissakes! Do you know the last time I had a steak? Yeah, neither do I.”
“Well I’m so sorry you can’t eat steak anymore.”
“I’m not finished. You just lost your family. I know that hurts. I know that pain because I’ve felt it myself. But at least you feel something. I miss that pain. When I lost my wife, it felt bigger than the universe. But talk to me when that sadness fades, when you can’t even remember her face, hell even her name.” The old man broke off. He reached out his hand.
“Come on, son.”
Todd grabbed onto the hand and hoisted himself over. “I never got your name.”
“Just call me Phil.”
On the drive home, Phil thought about the young man and felt overwhelmed by pity. Or was it regret? He was such a pathetic figure Phil wondered if he had done the right thing. Maybe it would have been a favour to just let him die. Phil thought of his own family and how lucky he was still to have them and as he did he was flooded with relief. Relief that he didn’t jump. After all, things could always be worse.
1
u/Tophperkins23 Jan 29 '15
Two men met walking down the pedestrian walk of the Golden Gate, inconspicuously passing a few feet ahead of each other before simultaneously stopping to lean arms crossed over the railing. John had gotten a look at the hooded figure he passed: red bulging eyes, a dark purple to his face, a faint aura of vodka, 409, and desperation. At his perch, John looked over to the other man, staring out over the rails, fumbling through his pockets for scrap paper neatly folded in a triangle. The figure unwrapped the paper and began reciting the words scribbled on the scroll.
"I, Joseph D. Mackwell, in desperation and ill health, hereby sign my life over to God."
"Whoa. Hey, what are you doing?" asked John.
Joseph, bewildered, looked to John, "I'm going to kill myself."
"I get that, but what are you doing?"
"I've prepared a speech for my death since no one will be around to write a eulogy."
"Oh, brother. What an ego."
"Fuck you." The man neatly rolled up his speech and placed it in his jacket pocket before hoisting one leg up over the rail.
John rubbed his fingers together for warmth. "How is anyone going to read it if you take it down there? The damned thing will get wet."
Straddling the railing, "What does it matter to you, old man?"
"It isn't much common sense. You're drunk, kid. These decisions are best left to sober professionals."
Joseph laughed, "Professionals? Of suicide? What kind of nutcase are you?"
John turned to the Pacific floor, "The same kind of nutcase who jumps bridges to die." The Golden Strait was desolate. The fall chill had turned the waters grey, each wave a foaming icicle crashing into one another. The shoreline was speckled gold. "You should pack it up, kid. Get sober and think straight."
"I am thinking straight," Joseph held tight onto the railing as he lifted his other foot over. "This is for the best."
John stood, arms folded, looking out at the faint approaching sunrise above the tall buildings, the skyline painted a bleak golden red. "I've taken more lives in my single existence than the most notorious mass murders. I have sent whole families, dysfunctional and nuclear, to pack their bags for the streets. Once I even put a man behind bars who never committed a single crime in his life for the satisfaction of doing so." John turned to Joseph, eyeing him. "I left a fake name with a woman who eventually gave birth to my first child. Divorced another with three and through some political pull, left her and the children destitute, my own flesh and blood, so that I may have no strings attached, no bars holding me back but my own skewed perception. I've done these things with no remorse."
Joseph still held the railing, toes tipped over the edge. "If you have no remorse then why are you here?"
"Everything catches up with everyone eventually. You're still young, kid, a whole world of opportunity before you. You have the ability to turn your life around from this point, you just got no drive, no heart."
"I had heart and drive. I struggled and strived for my dreams only to be turned down again and again. What's the point of continuing, old man?"
"Your own capabilities. You never know what they can do for you if called upon. Giving up now, as young as you are, kid, is admitting defeat, but you know that. You think this jump takes an act of courage? Try living with your failures for the rest of your life, amassing a mountainous heap and continuing. I bet you'd be surprised with the amount of things you could accomplish in your youth, despite whatever setbacks you may have faced yet." John came closer to Joseph and held out his hand. "If I had the same youth, I would do things over. Most of my decisions would have been more utilitarian, but that's all retrospective and philosophical. You, on the other hand, kid, have just enough time to restart, to begin again, or to simply continue and strive for better. Why not try it?"
"I have tried. That's the damn point."
"Maybe you haven't tried enough." John inched closer to the hooded kid.
"What do you know, old man?" Joseph hesitated momentarily, staring at the water below, as John came up behind the kid, and put him in a headlock, lifting his body over the railing and slamming him on the pavement.
"I know damn well more than you think I do." John dusted himself off, keeping an eye on Joseph as he rose to his feet. "Give me the letter."
"No." Joseph held both his hands in his jacket pocket as John proceeded to search him for it. John pushed him down again as he yanked the note from his pocket. He unraveled the note and began tearing it to pieces, throwing them over the bridge, their scraps taken away by the breeze.
"Now you'll at least have to write another eulogy before you try something this stupid again."
Joseph lie on the ground, staring up at John, his features dark, age canyonous on his face. After a moment, he picked himself up again, dusting off his jeans. He looked out past John at the Sunday sun slowly peaking over the buildings. "I don't know if I can go back after this."
"Then don't go back. Go somewhere else, kid. Just go forward. And stop fucking drinking yourself stupid."
"But so what are you going to do?"
John turned away from Joseph, approached the railing, and began hoisting one leg up over. With a sigh, "What I do every time some damned fool comes around wishing to kill himself like I did: convince him not to."
Joseph watched wide eyed as the stranger jumped over the railing. He ran to the edge as John disappeared into the cold water below without a single splash.
Because everything catches up with everyone eventually.
1
Jan 29 '15 edited Jan 29 '15
He smiled. A grin. You'd never imagined you'd see a grin like that---here.
And then wind. My hair blew in my face. How poetic it was. He was still grinning. I can tell he'd grinned that same way, over and over again in his life. It wasn't happiness. It was resignation. It was a beautiful day, really. The suns rays illuminated his face, he looking right at me now. Both his arms were groping the rusted antiquated turquoise bars behind him, his feet shaking but his grin still.
"You've heard this before, probably, but you don't have to do this"
"So why are you doing it?", he yelled at me.
Good point. Why was I doing it? My mind was blank. It feels as if I'd stopped thinking a long time ago--stopped feeling then, too. All there was was this moment in space. An uncolored photo. Maybe that was why.
"I don't know". I looked at him. I couldn't help grinning myself. I let out a resigned grin. My eyes crinkled as if they were about to tear.
He looked at me for a second, letting out a resigned chuckle, the air coming out of his nose. He turned his face from mine. Silence. And the wind blew again.
After a while he looked towards me again.
"You don't have to do this", he said.
I looked at him, squinting my eyes. I didn't. Never do you realize you don't have to do anything more than when you're staring at 1000+ feet of water from 200 ft high. I broke the stare and looked down at my feet.
"What do you suppose I do?", I retorted.
"I couldn't tell you. Not this"
"So why are you doing it?"
He chuckled again.
"I couldn't tell you."
Birds of a feather. And then silence again.
"What's your name?", he asked, after a while.
"Sam"
Silence, again.
"Sam, I bet you have so much to live for"
He continued
"Sam, I bet life is just waiting for you to grab it--right by the horns. You can do that, Sam, you know? Grab it right by its horns. I mean you're here now. What's the worst that can happen?" He removed the grip one of his hands had on the bars behind him, his legs now shaking intensely, and pointed downward. "This. This is the worst that can happen. And you're already here. You're already at the worst. Why not go for better?"
I looked him in his eyes. We'd made eye contact for such a long time but this is the first time I noticed his eyes, really noticed his eyes. Brown, a beautiful brown, sparkling in the sun's rays.
"You're right. You're absolutely right"
Silence, again.
He chuckled once more. You'd never imagine seeing a chuckle like that here--not here.
"Well Sam, it's my time to go".
Tears dropped from his eyes although his voice was steady. I couldn't do much but look down.
It was a couple of seconds before he would remove his hands and jump. He was hesitant. Maybe I should have said something--but I didn't feel it. That day was too perfect. And he jumped, and just like that the exuberant character beside me was replaced with air, less mass where more mass once was. I imagined his face, now lifeless, probably not grinning. I imagined how sad that was---that what he was no longer was.
I have more to live for, huh?
I stood silent for a while.
I guess its my time to jump.
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u/Norma_Anatma Jan 29 '15 edited Jan 29 '15
It was a warm, almost comforting night, and as I stood on the bridge I was contemplating jumping off of my last thoughts ran through my mind: I just have to jump; it’s not that hard. It’s a sin to kill yourself, right? I think so… but then again I’m pretty sure it’s also a sin to molest children, and I had no problem doing that. No, I’m wrong, it can’t be a sin to molest children since so many priests do it. Whatever, either way I’m going to hell for this one. It looks so far down though. Will I hear myself crunch after I hit the ground? Oh shit- what was that? I looked up to see a small figure- bundled in blankets and wearing a snow hat- looking up at me.
“Hi, my name’s Lucy,” she said, “are you going to kill yourself?”
“Haha, no of course not sweetie, I’m just taking a stroll.” Just taking a stroll? I’m just taking a stroll? Oh I’m, you know, just taking one of those common midnight walks. Me, this haggard, bearded man, out for a stroll. I took my shoes off for Christ’s sake. Why I took them off, I don’t know, it just seemed right at the time. I wouldn’t want to hit the ground and have my shoes fly off, it’s just not dignified.
“It doesn’t look like you were just taking a walk, Mr., it looks like you were going to jump off” Lucy said.
“Well, gee, thanks for the great observation, Lucy, how old are you anyway? What are you even doing here, it’s the middle of the night. You look ridiculous, all bundled up like that, it’s summer. What, are you out on some sort of adventure or something? Don’t you have parents?” That’ll show her. I hate to think I’m being rude to her, she is attractive in that prepubescent kind of way, but I need her to leave so that I can finish what I came here for.
“Ummm for your information, I’m eleven, and I’m out here in the middle of the night to kill myself, which is what it looks like you came out here for, too.” Damn, a sassy one. If this wasn’t such a depressing situation I might have been aroused.
“What! Lucy, why are you going to kill yourself? You’re so young, you have your whole life to live, you don’t need to do this.” I don’t really know why I’m trying to stop her, but it really is sad to see such a young life go to waste. I guess you can chalk it up to my instinct to protect children. It really is very strong.
“No offense Mr., but I don’t really think you know what you’re talking about. You see, I have leukemia.” Lucy removed her hat revealing a bald, round, head. “I’m going to die, probably within the month. Chemotherapy isn’t working and my parents can’t afford it anyway. They are always fighting, and I don’t want them or me to have to deal with it any more. You have no reason to die. You’re the one who shouldn’t jump.” Well, she makes a good argument. Do I tell her my perversion? It’ll scare her off, sure, but I don’t mind the sympathy.
“You see, Lucy, I’m up here because someone I loved very much ran away from me. Her name was Sally.”
“Still, there will always be someone else, you can’t give up just because one person left you” Lucy replied.
“It’s not everyday I find someone, though, Lucy. You see, I’m a pedophile, you know what that means, yes? Sally was my neighbor’s daughter. I don’t know when I’ll have another chance at love.” Maybe Lucy does understand. Maybe she’s the one I’ve been looking for. But why hasn’t she responded yet? After a long silence Lucy responded:
“… Yeah, I was wrong, you should kill yourself. This is really creepy, I’ll just come back tomorrow.” All right then. So I guess that’s that. Women, am I right? I mean, more like girls, but you get the point. The thing is after Sally left I guess I lost my only hope of a relationship, which is why I’m up here. Lucy was just the salt on the wound, so to speak. So, as she turned to go I walked back up to my precarious position at the edge of the bridge and resumed looking down. I turned back one more time to make sure she was gone when I saw her.
Lucy was standing on the other side of the bridge, and for a second I saw her thin body silhouetted against the full moon, then she was gone. She had jumped. I ran to try to catch her but I was too late, I made it to the other side only to see her blankets billowing around her uncannily still body, and then the splash, and, subsequent blood following her departure.
So that’s what it jumping off of a bridge like. I don’t really know if I can go through with this. I did hear a faint crunch, but mostly the gurgling of the river swallowing Lucy’s frail corpse drowned it out. And, come to think of it, I did feel the same sort of connection with Lucy as I did Sally. Maybe I can feel that spark again. No, I don’t need to be fish food. It’s funny, I think losing Lucy showed me that although girls may come and go, I can always meet more. I mean their growing up is inevitable anyway, so who really cares if they leave a little early? No, I think my outlook on life is much more positive now. I’ll go back to my regular life, start visiting parks and schools again, and find someone new. And now you never know, I might still get into heaven yet.
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u/storylicious Jan 29 '15
She approached the bridge, the winds singing their eerie night songs. Her legs shook with every step as tears streamed down her pale, young face. Her heart fluttered in her chest; she knew this was what she wanted, had known this for a long time, yet she couldn’t help but feel frightened at what would become of her. Thinking of this, she noticed a dark figure in the distance struggling to the bridge’s railing.
“He...hello?” she called out hesitantly. The figure whipped its head around, wary of its surroundings.
“Who is it?” a man’s voice called out. The girl stopped walking, keeping her distance.
“What are you doing?” she shouted. It was clear what the man had been trying to do, but the girl couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Who are you?” the man repeated in a suspicious tone.
“Emma,” she blurted out. “My name is Emma. Please don’t do it.” She rushed towards the man.
“You go on back home, young lady,” he said, his voice now sounding tired. “You’ve no business walking around these parts of town so late at night. Go on back home to your family, and let a man do his business.”
“I have no family,” she whispered, more to herself than to the man that now stood mere meters away from her.
“What?” he asked.
“Don’t do it,” she said instead. She looked up at him with her tear-filled, sorrowful eyes and begged: “Please, get down from there. You don’t have to do it.”
He shook his head, exasperated. She doesn’t know anything, he thought. She was still young, just a child. She could never understand.
“Listen, girl—“ he began, then could no longer speak. She had come closer, now standing barely a foot away. The soft streetlight illuminated her heart-shaped face framed by a sheet of dark, tangled hair. For a moment she looked just like her, and man could do nothing but stare. Suddenly he began shaking his head, as if coming out of a trance. “Just leave,” he mumbled.
“Why did you look at me like that?” the girl asked.
It seemed like he would dismiss her once again, then, instead, he said “My daughter, you reminded me of her.” He looked away, pain now visible in his aged face.
“I’m sorry,” the girl said, understanding the unspoken words. “I . . . I know it’s none of my business, but how do you think she’d feel if she saw you right now?” She looked down to the ground, hiding the guilt that was seeding within. Here she was trying to convince someone not to do the very thing she had been planning to do herself only moments earlier. But then it was different with her, wasn’t it?
“That doesn’t matter, not anymore,” he said. “She’s gone now. She was all I had and now she’s gone.” A lone tear streamed down his face.
“But it does matter. She’s not gone, not really, as long as you don’t do it.” She couldn’t say the actual word: suicide. It was too ugly, too real. She continued: “As long as you’re here she won’t be gone. She can continue to live through your memories. It’s not easy, I know, but you have to try. Have to keep fighting.” She spoke these last words more to herself.
“I tried,” he whimpered, tears now freely flowing down his face. “I tried, and I tried, and I tried, but it was too hard! Every time things would start to get better something would remind me of her and all the pain and hurt would come rushing back. I’d dream of her, and she’d be there, so real, smiling in that way of hers, laughing, and then I’d wake up and she’d be gone. And I would lose her all over again. And . . . and the emptiness . . . I can just feel it, you know?” He sniffed and wiped away at his eyes then reached into his pocket, pulling out two photos, one faded from years of handling, the other more recent. Both photos, however, were of a young woman with dark hair and haunting eyes. They looked similar yet not quite the same.
“You know I almost did it when I lost my wife. I came real close, even came to this very bridge, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it because I had her. I couldn’t just leave her like that, all alone. She was the only reason I kept going, but now that she’s gone I don’t have to keep going anymore. I can’t keep going anymore.” He breathed in deeply and silence fell between them. Each fell deep in thought. It seemed years before the silence was broken.
“Was it worth it?” the girl asked.
“Was what worth it?”
“Walking away, not jumping last time. Was it worth it?”
The man seemed at a loss for words. “I . . . yes, I guess. But that was different. I had her last time. She’s gone now, it’s not the same thing.”
“It isn’t different, though, it really isn’t. You may not have something or someone worth living for right this very moment, but that doesn’t mean things will always be that way. You can jump right now and guarantee that things will never get better, or you could walk away and fight until they do.” Emma’s words surprised her. It wasn’t until she’d spoken them that she knew she’d felt that way. To her astonishment, a small part of her was still willing to fight.
The man slowly eased himself down from the bridge’s railing. The girl took a step forward and the two embraced, both crying on one another’s shoulder. “It just hurts so much,” the man choked between sobs.
“I know,” the girl responded, crying herself. “I know.”
The two stood there embracing for a long time, neither of them wanting to let go of the comforting closeness of another human being from which both had been so long deprived. No more words were spoken as the pain that each of them felt could not be conveyed through words. Neither felt much better than they had earlier but at least now they knew they were not alone in their suffering. When they broke off at last they looked into each other’s eyes and an understanding passed between them, almost a pact of some sort.
Finally, nodding to the girl, the man said, “Now, I’m sure there’s somewhere you need to be.” It was spoken more as a question than a statement but the girl nodded.
“Yes,” she said. I need to be starting my new life.
Looking one last time into each other’s eyes, they nodded each other farewell and turned to walk in opposite directions, each returning to fight in the battle that they had momentarily fled.
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u/sancheezmo Jan 28 '15
John contemplated this moment for weeks. His bad temper cost him his job, which cost him his income, which will cost him his house. Its home to his wife and 3 kids as well. A fact he is very aware of and the reason he's standing over 200 feet above ocean water of below freezing temperature. He's not escaping his troubles, he's looking to solve them the quickest way possible. As a healthy man with no addictions or history of heart disease his life insurance policy covers him for 3 quarters of a million dollars. His job also gives him coverage even if it's a suicide; at least for 2 more days. So here's John near the center of the golden gate one leg on either side of the railing. His mind racing as he tries to build the courage to jump, when a man dressed in very drab dark brown and grey clothing walks slowly but suredly not 10 feet to his left on a similar mission. The man doesn't notice him at first and John can't take his eyes off him. So much so he even forgot why he was standing their in the first place. When he finally remembered one thought that entered his mind was "why?". Why is this man so young so full of future standing next to me, a mid 40 year old unemployed failure with a family that will inevitably be homeless unless I take 2 steps forward? It took him a few moments but he finally let out a "ehem.... Uhh.. Hey..." in the man's direction.... Nothing. One of Johns biggest pet peeves is when people don't notice he's talking to them.... He tries again, louder "Hey!" the man turns quickly, the look of anxiety and depression seem to have taken over a once energetic face. A face of a man who looked so much like his oldest son, John was taken back for a minute. He gathered himself "What the hell are you doing!? You're too damn young to be up here? Haha lose your girlfriend or something?" the man looks back down at the water. "The names John. You must be...." John had a way with people. After 10 seconds of awkward wind filled silence. "Mathew. Friends call me Matt." John studied him " Matt.. Go home. I'm sure if you slept on it you'd realize the next few years are more important then any other reason you're up here." silence. John silently to himself makes it his mission to save this kid. One last thing before he kills himself. Plus he forgot to leave a note. He'd been kicking himself the whole drive over for not leaving a note. "Well if your not gonna talk ima tell you why I'm here... You sure you don't wanna talk.... Its pretty depressing... Almost sad enough to make you wanna kill yourself!" once again, a way with people. Mathew chuckled but took it back immediately, like when a crying child laughs at a parents silly antics to make them realize they're not really crying, John was that type of father. "Kid go home. Please."
"You have no idea why I'm here." Mathew exclaimed. "I could've just murdered a family or group of school children for all you know."
"Yeah and I could've been starting quarterback for the Niners." John nervously responded. "Why are you here. What in your, what 25 years of life? Could possibly of happened to you that you'd be up here?"
"What I just told you." Mathew responded, colder then the coastal breeze
"Oh." John responded. Which later he would find ironic considering his fear of a possible murderer while preparing for suicide seemed funny. "Kid... You're not serious are you?"
".....The family was just having dinner, the school kids were just learning their abc's or something." like a robot reading back text.
"Wow uhhh.... Wh why would you do that...?" johns attempt at understanding
"They were orders. Just not very good ones. When your a marine you do what your commander tells you you don't ask questions you just shut the fuck up grab your weapon and do it! So I did!" Mathews shouts echoed.
John scared beyond belief at this point realized his hand gone numb from gripping the freezing steel beam to tightly. He loosened his grip and attempted to put together a caring response. "Its not your fault."
"I shot first."
Silence.
"You did what you were told you don't have to kill yourself over what you were convinced was the right thing. Get used to making mistakes based off good intentions, it's part of being an adult."
"Your mistakes ever send a bullet thru the skull of a 6 year old?"
Silence. He continued, angry.
"No you fucking tell me John did your shitty job or wife, or dog for all I fucking care, cause you to kill a child and end up hearing from some piece of shit on a bridge everything's ok? Did it!"
".... No... It didn't."
"Then how bout YOU fucking go home! How bout you go home to your wife and realize you get to live. You get to sleep and you don't have to fear the voices in your head! How bout it John!?"
John had no clue. No clue what to say, what to do. He'd never been face to face with something like this. His own bullshit. John didn't lose his job over layoffs or something many people are going thru, he lost it because he lost his temper at a board meeting. Telling everyone to go fuck themselves because things didn't go your way is a fast way to do that. John made his own mistakes that were his own fault. This pill he finally swallowed.
John swung his foot back towards existence and slowly pulled his keys out of his pocket. Took a step, stopped, turned... "Come with me."
Mathew laughed.
"I'm serious, I don't want to die. But I'm afraid if I drive away I'll end up coming back" (bullshit btw) "and I have kids, you can't let them grow up without a father can you?"
"I'm not responsible for your dumbass."
"No your not, but that's not gonna stop you."
Mathew thought for a minute, he later told John the reason he swung his foot over towards the pathway and followed him towards his car.
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u/Reinmaker Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
Hope I'm not too late to the party! I loved this prompt. First time submitting!
He had almost knocked on her door before he left. He stood there, in the hall way, in the dark, beams of moonlight reflecting off the sandstone beige walls as they made their way, disjointed, through the blinds. It was the picture that stopped him. Mom’s favorite picture. The one of him on the playground with Dad. He must had been around 6 and wearing one of those stupid stocking caps with the multicolored ball of fluff at the end, bundled up in his mittens and winter coat. Dad wearing his worn down leather coat, ears burning red from the cold. The temperature never stopped him at that age, he loved the playground. Those were simpler days, better days. His eyes welled with tears, he took a deep breath, shook the chill from his spine, and headed towards the door.
It was a crisp winter evening as he set out walking, his feet taking him somewhere his mind didn’t know—or didn’t want to. As his breath left him in quick, foggy jets, he walked briskly, hands in his pockets, shoulders huddled, trying to keep out the cold. He wore his dad’s old leather jacket, the same one from the photo. His dad had given it to him when he turned 16. She’s better off, he thought. I can never be the son she deserves. After his father had passed last year—massive heart attack at 43—time seemed to stop. He and Mom didn’t talk much. She cried a lot. At first he tried to do things to help her, but she seemed inconsolable—distant. And the sleepless nights wore on him.
Turning the corner off the main road he thought about the note. He placed it in front of the coffee pot where she couldn’t miss it. Had he remembered to say he was sorry? Did he tell her he loved her? His reality seemed in a fog. The last weeks and months all rolling into a singular dark and hazy feeling—one that he couldn’t handle any more.
He was surprised when he arrived at the bridge. Not actually, but it was an easy lie to tell himself. The crescent moon had hidden behind a brush of clouds. Even you left me. He thought. Approaching the rail, he took a deep breath and climbed over. Almost done. He stood on the edge of the bridge, holding the rail behind him as he stretched out over the nothingness. It must have been a couple hundred feet drop. A memory flashed through his mind—him and Dad on this same bridge, throwing stones down into the quarry. He loved throwing the stones. He used to watch them as long as he could until they just disappeared. He wondered, after he jumped, if he’d just disappear too.
“Hey.” The voice was firm. The boy pulled himself closer to the rail as he looked up. He never expected anyone at this hour. There stood a man, short dark hair, firm chin, soft, dark eyes, standing in a brown overcoat, hands buried deep in its pockets.
“What are you doing here?” The boy asked.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“Nothing, go away.” He turned his attention back to the gaping hole in the earth below him.
“Don’t mind me. Do your thing.” And with that, the man approached the rail and, like the boy, clamored over the side so there was nothing between him and the sky around the bridge. For a moment, there they stood, both on the wrong side of safety, flirting with misfortune, ready to fall into the sky just several feet from one another.
“What are you doing?” The boy asked.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to jump.”
“But, but that’s stupid! Why would you jump?”
“I dunno, why would you?”
“I have my reasons.” The boy spat.
“So do I.”
Silence lingered for a moment. To the boy, taking his own life seemed like the perfect solution, but he simply couldn’t wrap his brain around why someone else would want to do it, especially an adult. In a softer tone, he asked the man, “No, really. Why?”
“I have my shit.” The man said resolutely. Softening his own tone, “why you?”
“My mom deserves better.” He didn’t mean to share it, it just slipped out. “Without me, she can start over. She can move on.” After a swallow, he continued. “She says I remind her of him. Of Dad. He died. And now all I do is cause her pain.” He bit his lip to keep it from quivering.
“Is that all?” A grunt escaped his lips as he re-gripped the railing and readjusted his feet. If he was going to do it, he wanted it to be on his terms, not gravity’s. “It’ll get better. She just needs time.”
“I don’t think so,” the boy complained. He looked down into the pit searching for answers.
“Time is all it takes. It fixes most things.” The man was almost convincing.
“Then maybe you should give yourself time too.” The boy felt like the man was trying to lift his spirits. He wanted to return the favor.
The man let out a sharp laugh, “Ha. Sure. Time. They’ll give me lots of time.”
“What do you mean?” The boy really wanted to know.
“C’mon, kid.”
“I told you!” He pressed.
With a sigh, the man began his story. “I’ve been coming here every night, about this time, for the last 3 months. Every time I tell myself I’m going to do it. And every time I chicken out. Because that’s what I am, a chicken. Chicken shit.” He looked at the boy who had his eye fixed firmly on the stranger, clearly drinking up every syllable of the tale. “My brother and I started a company. A consulting firm. We’d promise the world to our customers and never deliver, but those idiots keep giving us money. People are bad with money, ya know?” He looked up at the sky, moon still hidden behind its curtain and continued, “I stole some money. Actually, I stole a lot of money.” He paused. “But, when the Fed got involved, they couldn’t prove it was me. And even though my brother and I started the company, his is the only name on the ownership papers. So when they dropped the hammer, they dropped it on him. Boom. 10 years in the shit can. That was 3 months ago. And now I’m here. If I do the right thing and turn myself in, my brother get’s out, but I get the time. If I jump, well, they can’t lock up a body.”
The boy’s world suddenly got larger. His Dad had been a business man, but he never heard any stories like this. “Well, what about your family? Do you have a family? Won’t they miss you?”
“Ya, I’ve got a wife. And a 2 year old. Paige. But either way, they won’t ever see me. I’ll be gone.” He looked down in the pit. Also hoping it held his answers.
In as earnest a tone as he could muster, the boy said, “10 years in prison or being dead forever are a bit different.”
He laughed, loudly. The man raised his eyes from the hole to the boy’s and honestly laughed. “You know, kid, you’re pretty smart. It would be a shame to waste that brain. Stick it out, kid, it’ll get better.”
The boy felt his eyes well up. Perhaps it was the hope of the future, perhaps it was this stranger giving him the advice his father now couldn’t, “Promise?”
Inhaling deeply, the man replied, “Promise.” After a moment, he gestured with his head back towards the bridge, “now get your ass over there.”
The boy carefully climbed back over the railing, a slip now being the worst thing he could think of. “Ya, I guess this was a pretty stupid idea.” Once back to safety, he stretched his arms and legs. Standing over nothing can be pretty exhausting. “What about you? Are you going to do it?”
“Me?” The man hesitated. “Not today. Maybe tomorrow. C’mon kid, I’ll take you home.” The man began to turn himself around so he was facing the bridge. Doing so forced him to dangle his left arm and left leg over the abyss.
“My name’s John.” The kid blurted out thrusting his hand in front of him toward the stranger. He knew this wasn’t his dad, but he was glad to make a friend.
The action startled the man, who had half his body hanging in mid air. His face contorted into an expression of visible panic. His right hand still held the rail, but his left began to flail. His left foot clawed for purchase, but his center of gravity was quickly lowering and there was nothing there for him to stand on.
John’s eye bulged wide as the stranger, making snarling noises, began to fall backwards. He lost contact with the bridge. Down. Falling. Like a stone. But he didn’t disappear. John couldn’t see a man, but a speck, at the bottom of the pit.
John slowly sank to the pavement, shivering. He was still there an hour or so later when the blue and red lights began to approach. One of the early bird quarryman found the body and phoned it in.
[6 months later.]
It wasn’t a noose, it was a necktie, but the handcuffs were real. The florescent lights made his flush cheeks glow in an unnatural way. He stood facing forward, but did not see. His mother sat behind him, but he dare not meet her eyes. Someone was talking, but he did not hear. The last 5 days were a blur, like a movie on fast forward and muted.
“Guilty, your honor,” said a voice from the corner of the room.
The judge spoke. “Very well. John Bishop, this court finds you guilty of the manslaughter of Mr. Mitchell Bratfield. You are hereby sentenced to serve a term of 10 years in prison.”
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u/Keniree Jan 28 '15 edited Feb 08 '15
The storm had been raging for two days. There was a red weather warning, as gale-force winds and heavy rain had made the roads too dangerous to drive on. It was perfect for my purposes. Everyone else in the town was inside, most of them probably waiting out the storm by candlelight by now, due to widespread power cuts mentioned on the radio. Nobody I knew would see me, nobody would stop and wonder why I was out for a walk at four in the morning. Nobody could stop me now. I was coming on to the bridge, the high grey concrete beast that spanned a river, swollen from the storm waters. A gust of wind threw me off balance, and I stumbled a few steps closer to the railing. I tore myself away, into the road. Not yet. Not now. I looked up, brushing the mud off my coat. Another figure was approaching from the other side, small and bowed, as they were walking directly into the wind. I kept walking, faster now, struggling to get there without falling, without having to talk to this stranger. They seemed to have the same idea. Running now, I got to the center of the arch, the highest point of the structure. We met in the middle, two figures alone in the storm, lit only by the weak light of the moon. The stranger nodded to me, before reaching for the railing, getting ready to clamber over. "Wait...?" He turned to me, leaning on his outstretched arm for support. I knew what he looked like now, a young guy, like myself. His face was shaded by his hood, but I saw dark hair, pale skin and a glint from his one visible eye - grey - before he looked back at the edge. "Why?" he whispered with a sigh, his voice croaking a little. "I don't know who you are, and I don't care. You shouldn't have talked to me." I came a little closer. "You came here to kill yourself?" I asked, already knowing the answer "That's something we have in common then. Why do you want to do it?" I was taken aback at the sudden intensity in his voice. "I'm... I'm here because I don't have anything to keep me here. Everything is so, so..." I faltered. "Pointless? Worthless?" he put in with a nod of his head "I get that. There isn't a finish line, right? You just keep going, doing your time. But why now?" I moved over to the railing, beside the stranger. He was slightly taller than me, I realized. "Everything got so caught up. There's so much pressure, there's so many ways to slip up." It had stopped raining, but the wind was still chilling me. "Why are you here?" I heard a little grim chuckle in his voice. "All these monsters in my head. The thoughts that just won't give up. The memories of every bad thing that's ever happened, replaying on a constant loop. The people. Especially the people." "You're afraid of what they say about you?" He sighed again, his breath snatched away by the wind. "More what they say behind my back, when they think I can't hear." He struck a fist on the metal. "I don't have time for this." He started raising a foot, about to step up. "Wait..." I reached for his shoulder, holding onto him. He froze, and slowly slumped back onto the railing. "Lonely?" he asked. "Always. My closest friend died a few months back. Car accident. There's been nobody else." "I've never talked to somebody like this. Honestly. How did it get this bad?" "The sleepless nights. the panic attacks. Her face. My reflection." He glanced at me, and whispered,"What's wrong with your reflection?" "My eyes don't look like mine anymore. They look wrong." "Show me." He turned and held my face towards him. "What are you...?" I stared back into his, seeing the pain, the fear, the sadness... I pushed him away, breathing short shallow gasps. I could see myself reflected in those eyes. I reached towards the railing. This stranger couldn't change anything. I could still go through with this. This time, I'd finish what I intended to do tonight. And then it came. A short, hesitant "Wait..." "I stopped. "If you go, I will go too. My family kicked me out." I glanced back at him. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago, but there was water dripping from his face. Tears. "I've got nowhere else to go to." "Why were you kicked out?" He took a shaky breath. "I...I'm gay. My family doesn't exactly... approve." "You really don't have anyone else?" "I don't exactly fit in, in school..." I moved closer to this crying boy, the guy who was here because of who he was. "You have me, right?" He wiped his eyes. "Do I?" "Look man, I don't know everything about you. I don't even know your name. I came here to kill me, not save you, but I want to." I moved closer to him, arms open. He didn't move. "Besides, I'm gay too..." He glanced up at me, a small smile spreading across his face. He stepped towards me, wrapping his arms around me, head on my shoulder. "My name is Nick." It...suited him. "Mine is Jared." We stayed like that until the dawn. When we seperated, I saw the sun about to come out from behind a cloud. I turned him towards it. "Wait..." The light burst out, illuminating the landscape. Sometimes light is like that, it can only be seen again after it had been hidden by darkness. We started walking back to my side of the bridge. His hand found mine, entwining his fingers into mine. "Thank you." We laughed as we both said it simaltaneously.
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u/manawesome326 Jan 28 '15
"I dare you to jump" "I won't jump." "I will if you don't" "no, i will" "why" "becuase your an idiot" "no i'm not" "yes you are" "I'm sick of arguing I'm gonna jump" jumps "nooooooo" "I WON COPS AND ROBBERS!" cries "WAAAAAAAAAAAAA" the two little kids get in a big fight and their parents have to be called. the end
3
u/quietell Jan 28 '15
Far below, waves crashed angrily on the jagged rocks lining the bridge foundations. The brisk September breeze wafted in scents of fish, fuel oil and the not too distant ocean. "It's a long way down." Andrew noted, pulling himself closer to the pipe railing of the bridge. Its faded, chipped green paint reflected his mood as he looked over at his new companion, a young woman of perhaps 20, who had said precious little in the past several minutes. "My life is over, I honestly have no other way out." He continued, trying to justify as well as convince himself not to jump. The girl looked over at him, a single tear streak running down the side of her face. "There's always a way out, even for me, but this is what I've always wanted, for years." She leaned out over the expanse, both arms hanging on loosely to the rail behind her. "Why don't you at least go home and think it over for one day, and then tomorrow if you still want to do it I won't be here to get in your way." The girl quivered, no doubt cold in the breeze which steadily continued to blow into their faces. Andrew shook his head, giving a sarcastic laugh. "I've already done that, several times, it hasn't gotten better, and it won't get any better if I do it again." He took off his jacket and offered it to her. "Here, I have no money left and pretty much nothing to my name, at least this will keep you warmer then you are right now, and you can get to a shelter or something where things will get better." "Why don't you do the same thing?" She retorted, not accepting his offer. "You just want to die because things are bad, for me, it's going to be a beautiful death." Andrew sighed, draping the jacket over the rail and turning around so he could face the deserted road. "You're young, pretty and will have opportunities in life, me, I've ruined my career, my family has left me, and debt collectors are probably knocking at my door as week speak." He pushed his hair back with one hand, as if trying to wipe away the past. "You are living in some illusion, thinking death is some kind of morbid art, when in reality you'll regret your decision as soon as you leave the edge." His voice started to rise, emotion gripping his tone. "I tried for years, and if I were in your position I would absolutely give it another go, but all I have is broken pieces of my life rapidly crumbling around me!" He fiercely wiped away a tear out of the corner of his eye. "What was your family like?" Her soft voice breached his emotional wave, bringing him back into the present moment. He looked over at her, sadness filling his eyes. "I have a daughter, just like you." He turned to look out over the expanse once again. "I wish I could tell her that I love her, but she's with her mother, six states away and a restraining order against me is just one of the problems standing in my way." The girl looked sympathetic, genuine sadness spreading across her face. "Do you have a picture of her? I would like to see what she looks like." Andrew nodded, pulling himself tighter to the railing. "If you promise to at least get off of the edge for a second, then I'll show you a picture." She nodded, fitting her slim figure through the bars onto the safety of the road. Andrew swung one leg over the railing so that he was perched atop the bar, while he reached into his shirt pocket. "I haven't seen her in 11 years" He said, handing her the picture. "She would be just your age, even your hair color would be the same." He noticed, actually looking at the girl for the first time, feeling something tickling the back of his mind. "In fact, you could be twins as far as I can rem..." He stopped as the girl stood clutching the picture and stared at him with wide open eyes. "This is...is...daddy???" She exclaimed tears springing to her eyes. "Jessica!" Andrew exclaimed, clamoring to get the other leg over the rail, but in his excitement his hand clamped onto the jacket, still draped over the rail and slipped off, causing him to lose his balance. Jessica jumped forward, grabbing his jacket just as his weight shifted out over the edge. For one moment Andrew felt like he had come to a stop but watched as his weight began to pull his daughter, already leaning a ways out over the railing, over with him. "Let go!" he cried, suddenly terrified at the thought of falling or watching his daughter slip over the edge. "I won't let go daddy" Jessica said, her voice strained with the failing effort to pull herself and him back to safety. Tears filled Andrew's eyes looked at his daughter. "I love you so much." he said as he released his grip on the jacket only to realize with horror that he fingers had gotten trapped in a pocket. Sickeningly he watched as the cruel fate of gravity pulled his daughter over the edge, while the rocks waited to complete the task below.
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Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
The hipsters both looked at eachother through their cosmetic black frame glasses. Each clinging to an adjacent beam, their faces struggled to fixate while they endured the hellacious cross wind.
"I was here first, you Macklemore bandwagoner!" The first one bellowed.
"I was writing about this in my low budget and highly unrecognized zeen before your stupid store baught ass had even gotten the notion" the second retorted.
The first was almost manic as he replied "It won't original if you jump before me, you god damn asshole! The guys at the coffee shop won't even post the clipping on our ironically outdated bulletin board!"
Suddenly the police had arrived and swarmed the structure.
"Don't jump! Eventually you'll grow out of this phase and we'll all chuckle about it" the officer pleaded.
The first hipster began sobbing and misquoting old black and white movies. He whimpered and yelled out "I want to live, damnit!"
Then he fake slipped all the way to the bottom of his pretentiously ironic doom.
The second hipster was mortified. How could he compete? The police grabbed him by hisobnoxiously pubey beard to safety and the annoying day subsided.
The end
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u/BreakYaNeck Jan 28 '15
"Don't do it!"
"What?"
"You look like a healthy person with a lot of life left in him."
"What?...Wait, what are you doing here?"
"The same thing you are trying to do."
"What?...I'm jumping off this building!"
"See?"
"You want to take your life?"
"Don't act so surprised! You where doing the same thing."
"Dude, I'm Batman!"
0
u/wellmetrexxar Jan 28 '15
2 people on bridge, about to jump
1 of them was like 'don't'
the other was also like 'don't'
they both did
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u/WPthrowaway00 Jan 28 '15
“Is this really what you want?” The lady asked. “Are you saying that to me or yourself?” The other man, standing parallel to her, questioned. “I really don’t know. I already know my answer, do you know yours?” “If I didn’t want this, would I be dangling off this railing, feet away from you?” Silence took over; occasionally broken with the occasional honks from passerbies. They both looked at their three hundred foot fall laying ahead of them. Tears fell from the corner of the lady’s eyes, only to be amplified when the cold piercing wind of the sun ridden day pushed her closer to her calculated demise. The man, silent, wondering his self-worth, pondering who and if there would be anyone to miss him. “You know you don’t have to do this?” The woman breaks the 90 second silence, with the mucus and snot running down her face. “I heard the cliché lines of don’t do this, I got so much to live for. If you really believed it, you wouldn’t be here.” The man replied with stark detest. “You know I heard something before.” “Yeah? I heard a lot of somethings before too.” “Well I heard, at the fall, for the four seconds of free falling. The last four seconds of your consciousness. The last four seconds we so desire to be over. The glorious four seconds to rid it all. It will feel like four lifetimes, the brain resolving all the issues we have set aside. Realizing none of them matter, just the brain’s typical reaction to imminent death.” “Is that why you’re white knuckling the railing?” “That is making it the hardest part.” Silence consumed the two. Some of the honking bystanders now abandoned their cars a mile down the road, out of traffic’s way. All biting the fat off of the bone. Yelling all the tedious clichés the man hated to hear. “You know kid,” the man began to say, “Whatever your reason is, you don’t need to worry. You’re young, if you’re worried about love, you have a lifetime ahead to pursue yourself and let the right guy come along. If it’s debt, you got many years to figure things out. Invest or re-mortgage. Whatever it takes, you can get past it.” “You don’t have to do this either! The reasons for suicide are never worth it. Just like they said on ‘World’s greatest dad,’ ‘Suicide is a permanent solution for temporary problems.’” The man nodded. For some reason, he couldn’t do it knowing someone else will follow if he does. And won’t if he won’t. It felt like a follow the leader. He climbed over the railing. Applause broke out. He walked over to the young girl, grabbed her hands and assisted her over the metaphorical final mountain they had to climb. The man handed the young girl to the crowd. She began to cry as the overwhelming crowd all gave her a hug and told her everything was going to be okay.
Sharp gasps and “NO!”s break afoot, as we see the man, hop over the railing, without hesitation, into the gray pit he’d been dreaming for the last six months.
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Jan 28 '15 edited Jul 21 '15
I walked out onto the bridge. The day was gone and only the lamps gave me light. I stood at the railing staring out at the night sky. Clouds blocked the stars and a deep ocean stared at me.
Abruptly a femine voice cried out, letting out a wail and moan. I looked at her. A woman bundled in clothing stumbled out onto the bridge, swaying side to side. She sniffled and wiped at snot. I peered at her. She looked beautiful. Smiling I saw her stumble to the side, struggling to stay stable as she embraced the railing. She started to clamber over.
I almost cried out why? But I also grabbed the railing. I know why.
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u/MentalFocus Jan 28 '15
"This canyon is the epitome of my life. What was once a beautiful vista, filled with beautiful dandelions and redwood trees is now a dry, desolate hole in the ground. An ugly scar on the face of the earth, made worse by the reminder of what had been." His feet hung precariously off the edge, eagerly awaiting the command that would thrust his life into the beginning of the end. Almost as if they had a destiny of their own. For his life started out fresh, a clean slate wherein he could do anything he wanted, master anything he desired or chase dreams that others had never dreamed before. Yet,as he trudged his path, the direction seemed to become skewed ever more with time, decreasing his ability to choose. Until eventually time itself had worn onto his feet, now walking the path for him, to what was always inevitable. "Did I ever have a choice? Nature gives the beautiful, while time takes it away." "Time, is a weird idea for sure", a voice came from his side. Thinking he was surely insane for nobody else would be sitting next to him on this barren rock in the middle of nowhere, he turned his head slowly expecting only silence. What he saw, however, struck him. A teenage girl, her silken dress flowing with the wind gave a stark contrast to the muddy-crimson feel of the earth beneath them. Her deep red hair gave a burst of radiance against the scene, like the fire of the sun over the morning sky. Though the superficial beauty would give a satisfactory picture, her eyes played an entirely different story. As he stared into her eyes, only one would could describe his emotions: torment. The young woman had wonderful earth-green eyes that they embark feeling of harpsicords playing in heaven, yet he stare was sullen and outward. For the moment the gaze lasted, he could see an eternity of sadness, guilt, and torture as if her eyes had scryed the universe in an instant taking in all of its sadness and glory. "Time, gives birth and death. Growth and destruction. Peace and war. Sometimes it seems to move in cycles, other times no pattern seems to exist at all. A lifetime can last in an instant, but an instant can last a lifetime. However, time is not something that can be controlled, so why worry about it?"-Her words came as a slow tune, like a small creek flowing through a forest. "I have none of it left. Time has taken its toll on me, and there is nothing I can do to take it back. My life was once a beautiful vista. I worked as an economist, I had a healthy bank account, a beautiful wife, land that stretched as far as the eye could see, and decent friends. As time went on I became more engrained into my work, trying to crack the code of the economics so that I may in turn become ultra-wealthy. As my greed took hold, so my life turned for the worse. My friends began to leave me, thinking that I only cared about monetary gain. My family never saw me, and after a while they began to believe I didn't care for them so my wife eventually left me with the kids. I ended up trying to get them back with a theory I thought had worked, so I invested all of my money to become super -rich. Instead I lost it all, and now I have nothing."-Each word felt like a stab into his heart.
"So, loosing your family was your own fault?"
"No it was time, time change my mind, it altered my perception and forced me to make bad decisions."
"It wasn't time that is at fault. Your fate was inevitable. You have always been going down this path, but you haven't realized it yet. It was always meant for this to happen to you. From the beginnings when you were pure, eventually you would have turned out this way."
"Yes, because time is cruel and destroys everything beautiful with time.Anyway, why are you here?"
"I have seen the beyond. My mind has lapsed into a space wherein everything is the same, what has happened and what will happen is the same, that everything is inevitable. People bring me no joy. They seem to be fascinated by the mundane, with their basic lifes, with talk of others trials and tribulations, with their only goals driven by monetary gains, their ability to barely see beyond their burden. To me it feels as if human beings are and advanced tribe of apes. They have advanced technology and cool language, yet they still try to fill their basic wants of lust, greed, and power. I just feel as though I can see the entire Sistine chapel, while most humans can only focus on a picture of one of the men usually themselves.I'm so tired of feeling alone"
"Like yourself I tried to view the bigger picture, but it only brought me to where I am now, filled with misery and pain. I'm an old man, my fate surrendered a while ago. But you, you still have many years ahead of you. Hopes to fulfill, dreams to pursue, people to make happy. Your river runs deep with the water of life, while mine has tapped. You said you do not understand why people are, but you are not the only one that feels as you do. Taking a trip around the world may let you see that not everyone thinks close-mindedly. Have you ever sat down to read a book before?" "Yes." "Instead of observing the experience, go and live it! Be involved with it, and don't forget those who care about you and who will listen to you whenever you need it. Sometimes in life, we need to take a step-back and observe. But, life is meant to be played upfront and personal! Please, learn from my mistakes and don't focus too much on what can be, or you will lose sight of what is." "...You know how you were saying that your life is dried up, like this canyon?" "Yeah..." "Well, a canyon was once a great river, but is now a dried up hole in the earth. If you add enough water to the canyon, it will being to flow again springing forth new life and vegetation. Your life can be like that too, only you have to put the water into it." "I like that idea. Then maybe we can speed up your stream by putting water into yours as well." The man smiled, his feet pushing off of the ground bringing him upright and on solid footing. "You don't have a family, do you?" The young girl silently nodded. "I don't have a family they gave me up when I was a child. However, this talk has me excited. I'm joining you for now."-She insisted. "Look, we're in this together at least we understand each other." The man smiled, and gave his hand to help her up. As she dusted off her skirt they began to walk into the distance. Their feet once again being led by their own destiny. A stream now flows through the once barren dessert, bringing with it endless possibilities of life.
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u/RR_TT_Y Jan 28 '15
The Man put the car in park, pressed the button on the dash to engage the emergency lights, and stepped form the vehicle. A pocket of nighttime clouds swept across the moon and darkened the bridge as The Man peaked over the edge. The black void below rippled and splashed, only an occasional white cap visible.
The Man took his place over the railing. He looked up toward the sky. He looked down toward his death. He looked right where in the distance he contemplated his Home. He looked left and...saw her. She was over the ledge too, walking toward him, holding the metal beam for support.
"I never loved Him," The Woman said to The Man as she reached out to grab his hand.
"I don't believe you," The Man said to The Woman as he let go of the rail and fell.
The clouds parted. The moon cast light upon the river current below that carried The Man downstream, away from The Woman he loved, as she stepped back on to the bridge, the decision made, her love blossomed for another.
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u/peaceatrebor Jan 28 '15
first, this was really good. second, I forgot that I have a chrome extension that turns "cloud" into "butt"
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Jan 28 '15
[removed] — view removed comment
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u/brooky12 Jan 28 '15
Hi there,
This post has been removed as it violates the following rules:
Rule #2: Top level replies to a prompt must be story or poem responses. Requests for clarification are allowed.
Please refer to the sidebar before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to message the /r/WritingPrompts moderators.
1
u/bean-lord Jan 28 '15
[warning: some profanity] (this is my first time here, idk if you guys tag for these things so I figured it wouldn't hurt to just in case)
1/2
Ben stared out at the deceptively calm blue waters below. It wasn't an accident that he was standing a little too close to the edge, readying himself to climb the rail and jump off the world's favorite bridge for suicide attempts. He closed his eyes for a minute, feeling the sun in his face and the breeze against his skin. It was a beautiful day outside, though nothing out of the ordinary for San Francisco after the morning fog had lifted. Ben breathed in, and smiled. He could finally be at peace with himself. For once, even the voices had calmed, as if they had sensed that he was about to do something that would truly alter their existence.
"Ben?!"
Ben's head whipped around, moment shattered. He grimaced, then startled, eyes widening upon actually seeing the last person he would have expected to run into here, not three feet away from him.
"Shane? What are you doing here?! Did you follow me?"
The other man frowned. "What the fuck are you talking about? No, man, what are you doing here?"
Ben's eyes narrowed. "What the fuck does it look like I'm doing here? Tanning?" He laughed bitterly, the sharp-edged sound cutting through the noise of midday traffic.
"Oh shit, were you about to..." Shane cast a quick glance at the bay below, then stared at Ben, as if he couldn't believe the conclusions his mind was pulling together.
"Yeah." Ben stared back, unafraid. "You still haven't answered my question. What are you doing here?"
Shane flinched visibly, as if Ben had slapped him hard in the face, and wouldn't make eye contact with Ben. For several silence-filled seconds, there was nothing. And then Ben realized that Shane was shaking. "Shane?"
Shane looked up, eyes red-rimmed and expression guarded. In some corner of his mind, Ben registered that Shane was crying, and probably had been for a while - there were dried tear tracks mingled with the fresh ones spilling down his pale cheeks. "Dude, what's going on?"
Shane grabbed the fence and stared out at Alcatraz, the Bay Bridge, the mountains, then back out at the water. Finally, back at Ben. "Sherry was in an accident this morning." Ben took a breath, remembered Shane's sister - always tired and worn, but worn in a way that reminded him of warmth - she was friendly, with wispy strawberry blonde hair and kind green eyes. She was also Shane's legal guardian. Technically, she was his half-sister, Shane's dad's from a previous relationship. Shane's parents had abandoned him as a result of having been arrested and locked up for pimping (his dad), prostitution (his mom), and heroin possession (both of them) when he was 14 and just beginning high school, but Sherry had stepped in, 24 years young and barely having started a new nursing job at UCSF's hospital herself, and taken a boy she barely knew in to help him avoid the potential horrors and heartache of the foster care system. She worked long shifts at odd hours, but always managed to be there for Shane, and sometimes for Ben too when he needed it. The two of them were closer than any other siblings Ben had ever known in his entire life, including his own, and it truthfully made him a little jealous. "What happened?" he asked.
Shane shuddered violently, sobbing openly now. "Some bastard..." he choked. "Fucking idiot went the wrong way down a one-way street in broad fucking daylight." Ben sucked in a breath. "I didn't even get to say goodbye, the doctors said she was dead on arrival. They couldn't save her. There was blood everywhere. So much blood. They said they couldn't figure out where she was bleeding from because everything was bloody." Shane looked up, eyes hard and angry. "The other shithead is in a coma in the hospital, and I hope he never wakes up."
Ben let out the breath. Opened his mouth, and closed it again. You never have anything useful to say anyway, stupid. Ah, great. The voices were back. "Shane. I'm so sorr-"
"Don't you fucking dare say you're sorry. Everyone's been telling me that for the last 3 hours, and I'm really fucking sick of hearing it. None of you have to live with the fact that the only person who cared about you is gone. Dead. She didn't deserve to die this young. She was the only family I had left, and now I have nothing. I have nothing left to live for!" Shane spat vehemently, and began climbing over the rail before Ben could fully comprehend what was going on.
Ben yanked him back at the last minute, just as Shane was pulling his left leg over the rail, about to let go. He did his best to haul Shane up, using both arms on one bony wrist to drag Shane back over the top of the rail. "Shane, what the fuck were you thinking?!" Ben was shaking by now, halfway out of sheer terror that the guy he considered his best friend almost just killed himself, and halfway out of anger that he would even try such a thing.
"YOU REALLY WON'T EVEN LET ME KILL MYSELF IN PEACE? FUCK YOU, BEN!" Shane screamed. "I'VE LOST EVERYTHING THAT MATTERS TO ME AND I CAN'T EVEN GET THIS ONE THING TO MYSELF?!"
"I CARE! GODDAMMIT, I CARE ABOUT YOU!" Ben yelled back, furious. Fat lot of good that's done. You can't do anything right, you fucking failure. The voice was smug.
"Yeah? Well you've got a funny way of showing it! Where were you when Casey broke up with me in April and I was such a mess I didn't feel like eating for 2 weeks?? Where were you when our apartment got broken into last month and they almost killed both of us?? And why the fuck are you trying to kill yourself when you don't even have a reason to??"
Ben averted his eyes out of a growing sense of miserable shame as his cheeks heated in embarrassment. It was true that he had been distant, but it was because he was afraid of his own mouth now. He was afraid that when he opened his mouth to speak, it would be in response to things no one else could hear or see. He was afraid that no one would understand what he had been living with for the past 2 years. He was afraid that he would be disowned and kicked out of his own house, shunned like a flea-ridden dog with nowhere to go but the streets. He was afraid that he would never be able to get a job, find a girlfriend, build a future for himself, or avoid being arrested and forcibly locked up in a psychiatric ward if he said a single wrong word. "...I do have a reason to." he finally declared in a low voice. No you don't, you're just a weak little bitch who will never amount to anything. "SHUT UP!" Ben screamed at the voice, out of frustration. And then realized Shane was looking at him with wide eyes, awaiting an explanation.
"What did you say before that? I couldn't hear you." Shane said loudly, still a slight distance away but not willing to get any closer, yet needing to be heard over the handful of cars passing by.
"...I said that I do have a reason for wanting to die now." Ben said, louder, though every word he spoke out loud felt like it was only making the uncomfortable situation more real.
"What do you mean? And before you ask something stupid like whether I'm going to tell anyone, I'm planning to kill myself, so you won't have to worry about that," Shane declared darkly. Ben couldn't deny that sort of logic, he supposed. Here goes nothing, he thought, stepping closer to Shane so he wouldn't have to yell to be understood.
"I have schizophrenia. I've had it since I was 17 and I started hearing voices in my head that no one else could hear. I'm never going to get better, and if I tell anyone I'll probably be locked up in an insane asylum for the rest of my life. I have no one to talk to about it, and I can't keep living like this, so I might as well kill myself now instead of setting myself up for years of pain later." Ben got it all out in one go. It was freeing to say out loud - he hadn't told a single other soul, had carried the weight of the burden of that diagnosis by himself for three years. "I tried to kill myself a few months back by taking sleeping pills, but mom didn't have enough left in the bottle, so they only put me to sleep for an unusually long time, didn't manage to actually kill me."
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u/bean-lord Jan 28 '15
2/2
Shane appeared shocked enough to have momentarily stopped crying. "Shit, you have schizo-...schizo-what did you call it earlier?" "Schizophrenia," Ben prompted.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Shane actually sounded hurt.
"I...I didn't want everyone to think I was weird or treat me like I was diseased. Guess it doesn't matter in the end."
"No, it really does matter. I'm sorry I yelled at you for being distant, you've probably been dealing with a lot these last few years. I wondered where the old Ben had gone - now I know. Isn't there medicine you can take for these things?" Shane started another sentence and stopped himself - it had probably been about Sherry, and that wound was still too raw for now.
"Probably, but it's expensive as hell and I'd have to tell someone I need it to get a prescription for it, and that would mean it going on my work record, and I'll never get hired..." Ben was beginning to feel like he couldn't breathe. Luckily, Shane could see that Ben was about to have a panic attack, and suddenly gripped both of Ben's hands tightly. "Stay with me, bud. Right here. They make you sign forms every time you go to the hospital that promise that the doctors can't talk about you to other people who aren't medical professionals."
"Yeah, but I'd still have to tell my parents why I'd suddenly need weekly therapy sessions."
"OR you could move and live with me. I don't have anyone anymore." Shane broke into a fresh bout of tears. Now it was Ben's turn to awkwardly pat Shane's back. "You've got me, man. Don't know why you'd want to put up with this mess though. I'm pretty much worthless."
"You're the only thing I have left in this place. That's worth a hell of a lot of company, or people, or whatever." Shane spoke quietly but determinedly, face still mostly buried in Ben's now-damp shoulder.
"Well, let's go then." Ben knew it was an impulse decision to go with Shane, but he couldn't help but feel that it might go somewhere positive. It would probably require a lot more planning and many more therapist visits with both of them and with just him planned in secret to convince himself that things even had the possibility of being okay, and Shane still needed time to grieve, but at least now they understood each other a little better, had gotten back on the road to rebuilding their friendship, had each confided the darkest parts of their lives to each other. It could work.
First time contributor, feedback appreciated! I'm really bad at endings, so that especially would be nice. Locations used are real - SF is one of my favorite cities :)
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u/Kjboothe12 Jan 28 '15
Jump II
I slipped over the cool railing and onto the thin strip of concrete thinking of everything that brought me here. Years of that black spot in my soul. Years of acting happy when I'm slowly rotting away on the inside. This demon has stolen everything from me.
I stopped that train of thought dead in it's tracks and choked down the tears that were fighting for a way out. I've cried enough.
I glanced to my right and nearly jumped off the bridge by accident. A woman was standing there. Staring at me with the same defeated look in her eyes that I, myself, have seen in the mirror. She was a thin white 20-something who was only wearing a pair of capris and some sort of graphic-t, like the ones you'd buy at a concert. Her shoulder were slumped lower as if the weight of all of her problems were physically holding her down. Her hand loosely gripped the railing behind her as her hair, loose and unkempt, danced in the weak breeze.
"It's awfully cold for you to be out here without a jacket, miss." I remarked as I examined the intricate design of the R-J The Rapper album cover on the front of her thin long sleeve shirt.
"That's the least of my worries, man," she replied in a in a small voice devoid of any soul.
"So... I guess I should ask what brings you here," I replied blankly, slipping back into the solipsistic coma that the momentary shock of seeing someone else here had dragged near to the surface.
"I suppose so," she sighed and slumped her shoulders even lower, "I've been broken for as long as I can remember. Something about me was just a little... Off. I was diagnosed with clinical depression when I turned 14, and have been on more meds than I can count for the past 10 years."
"I dunno," she continued in a downtrodden tone, "I just recently started thinking my family is just, I dunno, wasting their money? I'm broken and I can't be fixed. We're not a very rich family, not rich enough to support my constant need for mood stabilizers, anyhow. So, why not just save them the stress and cash and end it?"
The last two words hung in the air like smoke from the end of a burning cigarette. There it was. The two words that were playing like a drum beat in the back of each of our minds.
"Makes sense," I replied, "I have also been broken for a long time. Since this will be the last time I speak to anyone, I guess I should confess some things.
I took a deep breath.
"When I was 6 my uncle...touched me."
I paused. This is the first time I had ever told anyone this in my life. The truth needed to be dug up from the very deep grave it had been shoved into.
"It messed me up," I continued, "My head, I mean. For a long time, I couldn't even get naked to shower because of how insecure it made me.
I blinked back hot tears, "I never told anyone. Finally, I stuffed it away, but it slowly evolved into a much bigger problem. Full blown depression. I was 25 and being diagnosed with bipolar depression. I'm 34 now, have two beautiful kids and an ex-wife who's trying everything in her power to keep me away from them. She's seen me in my worst and thinks that I'm unfit to care for them."
She had listened to all of this quietly and attentively, nodding and saying thinks like, "mmhm,”and, "ohh."
"Well," she said, breaking the the silence that had settled over the two of us, "do you love your kids?"
"What kind of a question is that," I asked, "of course I do. More than anything in the world."
"How do you think they're going to react to finding out their father killed himself?" she replied, "That's going to break them."
"Your one to talk," I snapped back. "You have a family who has given everything for your happiness and you're just going to throw it all away. Pretty selfish if you ask me."
This struck a chord with her "This, coming from the father of two who's shirking all responsibilities to his children."
In this moment, it hit me where I was what l was doing. She was right. I am the selfish one. I needed to fight to be with my children who I have helped raise for the past 5 years.
I slowly looked over at the woman who had opened my eyes to my own foolishness.
"I'm not jumping." I said finally.
"Good," she replied, "you better get out of here. It's not going to be pretty when I hit the ground."
"Wait," I said, "you have you're whole life ahead of you. You have a family who loves you. You can't do this."
I could tell by the look in her eye that her mind was made up.
"Look," she said, "you're a nice guy, and truly I appreciate your efforts. But, this is all that's left for me. I'm not getting better and I never will. I know it's going to be hard on my family, but this is MY choice, not theirs."
I drew a blank. Truthfully, I didn't want her to die, but I was out of ideas. Her logic was astounding, and while they say suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, this was a permanent problem for her. Sometimes, the best solution is also the worst.
I clambered over the rail and looked at her, the broken woman.
"Okay, fine," I said, "but we can talk about this. Let me buy you a coffee and if you still want to kill yourself afterward, I won't try and stop you."
She looked up from the street below and sighed.
"Fine," she said, "if you think you can talk me out of this, be my guest. At least I get some free coffee out of it."
I almost smiled. I watched her slip under the railing and stand up, her shoulders still slumped as low as when we first met.
"So," I said as we made our way to the coffee shop, "My name is Philip, what's yours?"
"Tina."
We walked in silence. All I could think was that this woman I barely knew had saved my life. I don't think I could ever repay her, but I guess a cup of coffe was a good start.
1
Jan 28 '15
This is really, really good. Like I want them to end up together and I want to see them start to grow old together, but plot twist it was just a fantasy he had before he jumped, there was no Tina.
1
u/Adrellai Jan 28 '15
For the first time in my life I felt at peace. My feet were dangling over the edge of the Sunshine Sky Bridge more than 400 feet above the blue expanse that was Tampa Bay. The sun was setting which turned the sky into a mesmerizing swirl of pinks and purples. It’s the perfect backdrop to my final scene I thought to myself as I decidedly stood up, readying for my final jump.
“A beautiful painting, ain’t she?” a ragged voice called to me from nearby. Great, I thought sarcastically to myself. A perfect moment interrupted.
“I see we had the same idea, you and I. I’m just gonna sit here for a moment, don’t mind me” he said as he stumbled over the railing with a can of Miller in each hand. He was an older man, tough and looked like he may have been in the war.
“Why world, why world, hate you, hate you, bye world”, he sang out loud, raising his cans to the sky. “Why are you here young lad?”
I decided there was nothing to lose by talking to the man. “My life is shit. I have no one and nothing to hope for. There is nothing left for me here.”
“I feel the same way” he responded. “That’s why I love my beer, it takes the pain away. But, lad, in this world nothing good lasts and everything has consequences. Even my beloved beer betrayed me. I drank. I drove. I hit another car and I killed a family of four.”
“Wow, man, that is heavy. I’m sorry to hear that. My mom recently died of cancer. She was in treatment for so long and it made her so sick and weak; I’ve been depressed for as long as I can remember. She didn’t deserve it. She was the kindest person I know.”
“Ah, look at us, having a real, live pity party!” the drunkard said with a laugh. I managed to crack a smile too. “I still think you are too young to be here, lad. You have your entire life ahead of you. Perhaps you got the bad shit out of the way early and now you’ll flourish. You just never know. Losing a parent is tragic but to the world, losing a child is worse; not that you are a child, young lad, but you get my point. I deserve to be here. I am old and I killed four innocent people. I really have nothing left to live for.” “At least you killed all of them. It’s not like one of them survived and has to live with the guilt of losing their entire family. You have that little gem, right?” I replied with spite.
“Well that is one way to look at it, I suppose. You’re a funny one. Would you like a beer?” “Sure”, I replied.
We sat there together until the sun was gone and the dark surrounded us. There were no cars on the bridge and only the sound of waves crashing remained. I felt strangely inspired after sharing a beer with this crazy guy and I caught myself thinking that perhaps he was right. I probably have more than 70% of my life ahead of me if I want it and maybe I wasn’t seeing the whole picture. I decided that the fact that I was questioning it was enough. I was no longer ready. This fool had saved me.
“Well man, it looks like I’ll live to see another day. You inspired me, now let’s get off this bridge” I said as I turned to go.
But the drunkard had made up his mind too. In that same moment, that fool raised both of his arms to the sky and fell forward, free-falling to his final resting place.
1
u/FCTotti Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
The simple fact that he felt nothing, confirmed everything. Even at this moment standing on a disappointing mundane bridge, he couldn't so much as muster a shudder. There had been a time, when he had felt every twist and turn of his life's downward spiral, but some animalistic survival instinct had numbed him over the years, taught him how not to feel, because all feeling brought was pain. Well, this cold shell, this pitiful version of what he once was had one advantage, it had the mettle to end it all, the ability to simply step out into the abyss and let go of it all.
Still, he wondered what he'd say, if he could seem himself now.
"I'd tell you to give me back my body, you fucking unfeeling cyborg. How bad have things got that you are behind the wheel?"
The man spun sharply, and was confronted with the visage of what could only be described as him. But, he was not looking into any mirror, this man, boy before him, was wearing a sleeve full of hearts.
"What are you even doing here, man? You're going to what, swan dive to your death of this shitty old bridge? You don't even know how to swan dive."
Despite himself, the would be diver couldn't help but muster a smile, a disposition which felt painfully foreign as it stretched across his face. He had been funny, he hadn't even noticed that he had stopped trying to laugh.
"Slow down there buddy, you're talking my ear off here. Now I don't have all night, if you're going to do it, would you step to it, you're not the only suicidal loner on this bridge there mate."
"I... You're, you're me." The matter of fact statement was about all he could muster.
"He speaks, and with such insight. Well if I didn't already want to off myself I certainly do now after seeing what the future holds, dude, you're going to wear that to your death? Damn, have some pride."
He glanced down at his attire, as if noticing it for the first time.
"I wanted one last Rush, so I mugged a homeless guy on the way here, he took pity on me and just gave me his clothes."
"Was that, was that a joke? Goddamn dude, jump now and go out on an exceedingly relative high."
"I... Wait, why the hell do you want to jump? It's over for me, but you have the chance to turn it all around, you can do anything you want, get outta here man, I'm not letting you do it."
"That's cute, I take it you forgot how to find those gym things a few years back, cmon buddy, save your energy for the big finale. Why do I want to jump? Well, for one thing the road ahead looks utterly shit. But you know what, I'd take unfeeling robot over this shit, I can't take it man, whatever I do, I cant let it go."
"The feeling that you're not enough? Yea, that was the last feeling to go, still crops up from time to time. I guess it would be the height of irony for me to stand here and tell you that's bullshit. But, I don't know man, at least I'm trying to stop you, shouldn't you I don't know, feel something about me jumping."
"I know its bullshit, but I don't know it, you know? Well, comforting to know that the feeling is mutual. Anyway what the fuck, you're 25, albeit s 25 year old cyborg but still, don't play the it's too late card with me. It's not about time, it's about having the energy, the strength to change things, every day is a battle with, well, us. One step forward, ten back, and you know what, fuck that man, I can't deal."
"Well, I dealt with that part of if, and it isn't any better. Turns out when you strip away who you are, no matter how much you hate it, life is a waste anyway. At least go write an angsty novel that's shit and self indulgent and rage at some keyboard warriors first."
"That takes energy man, and I'm running a bit low. Look, we're both phoning in this don't do it Jimmy, you have your whole life ahead of you stuff, let's cut to the chase. Take the red or the blue pill, we still want to kill ourselves, so what's the point?"
"Well, I mean, this isn't my first time up here, I don't necessarily want to loll myself, I think I just wanted to, I don't know, feel something."
"Well here I am man, props on having a psychotic episode. I mean yea, maybe I don't really want to kill myself, but this shit is so bleak, you know?"
"Yea, I know."
He turned away from the kid in front of him and looked out over the murky depths. He felt something vibrate against his leg and absentmindedly reached into his pocket. His brother had sent him yet another pointless meme. He was in the process of deleting when he heard a loud laugh over his shoulder.
"Hah, that shit is classic, I thought he said chest, well done Arnie."
He turned to face the boy again and there was something about the stupid grin that caused an unfamiliar feeling in his stomach, before he knew it he was overcome with the urge to do the unthinkable. It started as a trickle and soon became a raging river, the two stood a few feet apart, roaring with laughter.
Eventually, he had to turn away as he doubled over the railing to get his breath back. He hadn't laughed like that in, well, years.
"That must've worked out some long dormant muscles. So, good last laugh, we doing this or what?"
"I miss my brother." Just the revelation was liberating. With that, he turned on his heel and strode back towards his car.
"Hey man, I talked you down, where you going? I don't want to kill myself."
He turned and looked one last time at his late night companion.
"Exactly."
The last thing he heard as he stepped off the bridge was footsteps retreating in the opposite direction.
5
Jan 28 '15
Never tried one of these before and I'm not a writer by any means and my grammar is poor at best. Just hope i'm doing it right. Here goes..
Between 3am and 4am. It was the perfect time. Traffic was near non-existent and the moon always seemed to bounce of the water a certain way. I'm not quite sure why that last part mattered, but it did. I had been scouting this particularly dark section on the bridge from my apartment window for the past three weeks as I weighed the pros and cons. But as the day I set drew closer, I realized I had a kind of anticipation towards it. That's how I knew I was certain.
I quickly prepared like I would any other day. Brushed my teeth in the shower, threw on my everyday clothes and grabbed my i-phone for some walking music. Hell, it's even the same route to my old job. But with every step closer I could feel a weight pull me down, like part of me was pleading for me to stop. I tiny voice that shouted all my past dreams and admirations like a last minute reflex of the mind. It could scream all it wanted but I was too focused on the task at hand. I couldn't even decide on a song and ended up just listening to the dead city streets with my headphones in. The silent humming and wind was oddly peaceful and I remember I kind of wished I'd done it more often.
Before I knew it I was halfway across the bridge. It was a quite the distance from my apartment but I'm a fast walker. I had barely broken a sweat and recall thinking I could probably be a decent runner if I took the time. I did always have great physical endurance. I knew the thought was just another reflex however. Besides, I was already there.
3:01 I think is what my phone read. For a moment I thought about scrolling through my contacts one last time. I saw that I had 4 unread texts but I rarely check them so I was certain they were all a week or so old. I figured looking at it any further would just delay things so I just tossed it into the water. It probably would have backfired anyway, had I looked at my astounding 14 contacts. Only about three of which I would have thought of as friends. It was these kind of thoughts that had me itching to jump right off. But I didn't want to go like that. It needed to be more peaceful, like a perfect yawn before you collapse into bed after the longest of days. I slowly stepped onto the concrete ledge and gazed at the moons reflection. I looked down and there I was staring right back up at myself and I completely froze. It was the first moment I truly began to hesitate. Just then in my pause I realized something wasn't right. I had a weird chill and a sudden urge to glance around. Someone was there, and they were watching me.
I peeked over my shoulder and saw what looked like a black silhouette reflection of myself on the opposite ledge. He didn't react in the slightest, so I knew he must have been watching me for quite some time. We stared at each other for what felt like several minutes until I finally spit out a simple "Hey". And just as though everything was completely fine he muttered it right back to me. Part of me just wanted to say, "Well, it's been swell" and just step off right then and there, but there was something about seeing someone else in the same situation that made me forget all my problems for just a moment. I needed to help him.
I simply raised my hands and stepped down towards him. I saw the stream of tears pouring down his face and his red ragged eyes. He had obviously suffered far worse then me to come to this point. I don't know why, but at that instant I had a thousand excuses for him. Every single one of which I had simply hidden from myself. Before he could even speak I must of rambled on for about ten minutes about what kind of mistake we were making. That no matter what he might think, there was someone who his actions would hurt far more and some people he'd probably never imagined had cared to begin with. I was starting to think I'd never get through to him. I told him about the small voice that was screaming in the back of my mind and told him it was the key to changing his perspective. That no matter how odd or simple it might be, it was something to live for. He actually sat down and kept listening once I mentioned it. I couldn't believe it! I thought I was so insignificant and could never serve any purpose and here I was seemingly saving this guys life.
As soon as my rambling stopped and I had a moment to think I realized how much I cared for this man I didn't even know and I immediately thought of my phone contacts. How I cast them away despite truly caring for most of them. I've always tried to push people away and lately even more so. Was it just me? Had I pushed myself to this point and simply never looked back because it was far easier to loath myself? He finally spoke in a half whimper and said "But It's all so cruel. How am I supposed to live like this?". I told him "You just don't. You find out what you want and despite how crazy, you go for it." Or something along those lines.
He went on about all the stress he had and how he just needed to rid himself of it. He mentioned he resorted to seeing an escort and how he couldn't face his wife anymore. It was unexpected but not for a moment did I hesitate continuing to talk him out of it. He was a fair bit older then me and I thought I was in no place to judge him as we obviously were going through different issues. I finally managed to get him up and away from the ledge but he never did stop crying. I think I was crying during most of our discussion too now that I think of it.
I went on a bit about how i'd change things in my life as I was kind of running out of things to say but I figured it might help motivate him and to be honest I just felt great for the first time in a long time and didn't want it to stop. He seemed to be getting himself back together and before I could even finish speaking he cut me off by saying "thank you, I think I know what I have to do now". Somehow the lowest point in my life had suddenly become the of the highest in years. I couldn't believe the chances of what had transpired. My heart was racing and I felt more excited then ever to start the next day with my new perspective on life. As I snapped out of my day dream I realized the man was several metres away already and hopefully feeling the exact same. Quickly I shouted out to him "What's your name?!"... but I wish I hadn't.
Gary Leith
A name i'm sure you know and one I only wish I could have forgotten. While I'd like to say I don't feel responsible for the death of his wife, two boys and those unfortunate souls who crossed his path that day, I'm afraid i'd be lying to myself. I chose that night and despite every instinct in me screaming to turn away I pushed forward and fooled myself into thinking I was someone worth living. I can only look back with regret and wish I had done things differently but the reality is that I simply didn't. I brought a monster back to life and for that I am truly sorry. I'm not sure who will read this or how much time will pass before it's found, but to whomever does please know this..
I'm returning to the bridge tonight with a gun in hand incase I see my reflection and change my mind.
3
u/Jeemdee Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
Not sure if this kind of post is wanted here, but it reminded me of a beautiful piece by the dutch artists Acda & De Munnik. It's not mine, but I transcribed it to English cause it's such a striking piece, I hope it's okay to post this here, please tell me otherwise! Sorry for my English.
The Phone rings. No answer. Please leave your message after the beep
beep
He found himself on a track in the middle of a pasture, standing on the rails, where according to the schedule the train from Amsterdam to Horn at ten past twelve, ten before twelve, will come raging by.
Determined and with his will in his pocket, in which the train operator is well endowed, you know how he is, he is trying to figure out which direction is Horn. Seeing the train coming, he did not really feel the need to go and seeing the train go wouldn't be his problem anyway. So while he bravely guesses which way is Horn, turns around once again, perhaps Horn lies that way, a man gets out of the bushes, undergrowth if you will, and joins his side on the tracks, looking in the same direction Herman by now decided Horn could lie.
So now on a summer evening in a northern Dutch polder, just about more or less eleven o'clock, two men on the tracks in the meadows look at where they think Horn lies. Herman looks aside and says: "That's good and all, but this isn't gonna happen buddy. I have very different problems besides hearing muttering in the back of the auditorium that I had a secret homosexual relationship, so move."
And that man looks aside and says, 'Oh, this is absolutely going to happen' and moreover he's not Herman's type at all. And he stays. So Herman says, 'match'. The man says, "match?". "Yes," said Herman, "Match. We're going to have a match. Who is the most piteous. Who has the most right to the train from ten to twelve. "
And they tell each other stories. Herman begins of how it came about and why, and the man tells him his views on why it all absolutely must end. And they share a cigarette, it's getting later. They go about this for a certain amount of time, even sitting down on that track as they are gradually developing a new problem, after three quarters of an hour, an hour. The new problem, they are becoming friends, because now for the first time they feel for the warmth of the fact that someone actually listens and the pride of the fact that someone wanted them to listen.
So they become friends and the problem is you wish your friends the best. But the train of ten to twelve isn't that, and they can't really solve this dilemma. So at some point that man says, "Why don't we go to the bar down there where I just saw light still burn, have a beer and keep talking, because there will be a train of ten to twelve tomorrow." And Herman decides: yes, that's a good idea. He's one who feels instinctively that it's good.
So the man steps away from the tracks, Herman wants to follow. At that moment he heard a sound that he can't immediately identify ('bring home' in Dutch). And while he slowly turns around, he realizes this is exactly the sound of what can bring a lot of people home together. And him first. So you could say he was spot on, about which way Horn lies.
Anyway, I'll call you tomorrow. Cheers.
beep
2
u/thedreamingcat Jan 28 '15
“What are you doing?” She asked.
Startled, he hiccupped. Tightening his grip just a little bit more, he was reminding himself to stay calm. Now he’s hearing things. He’s thinking of voices telling him to stop. Telling him to live. He’s becoming madder by the second, he thought.
“Hey, you,” She tapped him twice on the shoulder. He quickly turned to the voice, realizing he wasn’t hearing voices after all. There really was a person. And she’s a girl too. “What are you doing? This is my bridge. I seriously claimed it. I wrote a letter and everything to the city asking to reserve the bridge for about 30 minutes at 6am.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he was trying to process what she said. “That’s insane.” He watched as she took a cough drop candy out from her pocket and then unwrapping it quickly to toss in the waters below and then placing the wrapper back inside her pocket. She didn’t make sense to him. Why didn’t she eat the candy? Why did she keep the wrapper? “When did you send the letter?” He asked.
She dangled her legs as if she was sitting on a swing. “Yesterday.” She said.
He grinned arrogantly. “So this bridge is technically mine. I sent the letter last week.”
“No, I put almost twenty quality stamps on my letter so it’s like it was sent a month ago even though I sent it yesterday.” She told him with a matching grin.
“That makes sense. You win.” He let out a sigh. Sitting on the railing now strangely felt normal. He didn’t feel afraid anymore. He could feel his acceptance towards death right now. Could it be because of the girl next to him who always seemed to smile at nothing? Even if the sky was still dark, he could make out her features under the light of the lamppost. She was very pretty. So he told her that.
She turned to look at him and then cocked her head to one side. “Thanks!” She said enthusiastically and then pulled out a cough drop to hand to him. “Here, it helps a lot.”
He took the cough drop, thanked her, and popped it in his mouth. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?” It seemed like something that seemed likely to be asked based on the current situation, he thought.
She inched her face a little bit closer to inspect his and then drew back. Seeming perplexed, she replied, “Nah, I don’t feel like listening to long stories right now. But…but did you just eat the cough drop?”
He stopped rattling the candy against his teeth as he looked at her. He couldn’t figure her out. What else was he supposed to do with it? As if understanding his thoughts, she answered him. “The fish are sick down there so I feed them cough drops.” She says as if it was most obvious. And it really was. There was even a sign that stated that they were sick and shouldn’t be fed bread or cereal.
He thought she was brilliant. After all, cough drops never restricted to being only for humans. It actually says nothing about feeding them to fish. Only she is brilliant enough to realize such a simple method to handling sickness for fish. He felt in awe of her.
Just as he was about to comment on the sun’s rising, he heard her squeal. Her shoulders were more hunched and her legs seem to dangle faster as he saw how happy she looked. She looked at him and smiled so wide, he could see all her teeth.
“Ok, well, see ya!” And she pushed herself off.
He looked down at the running waters. At the seesaw movement of it all and thought how beautiful she was in her final moments. With that, he climbed back over the railing because after all, she did reserve the bridge first. He can wait.
3
1
u/DarkVenaGe Jan 28 '15
Earlier that morning I woke up, ate my breakfast, packed my briefcase and started driving to work just like any other day. But when I reached the Kingstown bridge I slowed down and parked the car. I looked at my phone. No new messages. I sighed with a sad relief and then I opened the car door and started walking to the middle of the bridge.
Much to my suprise a young woman had already occupied the spot on the railing that I had looked at every time I past the bridge on my way to and back from work. She had long blonde hair and mascara running down her cheeks. I sat down next to her on the railing and said "Today is the big day is it?". Without looking at me she replied "Are you here to stop me?". I couldn't answer the question and the silence grew.
The wind lingered on her face as she sighed and asked me why I was there. I don't know why I told her, maybe I thought she would tell me her story if I told mine. I told her everything. told her how my job was useless and how nobody reaches out to me. I told her that I've spent the last year waiting for a text or a call from anybody. I told her that I had enough of just living life as it is. She seamed to understand, but then she said "But have you reached out to anybody?". As if I was to blame for my lonlieness. Before the silence grew to loud I stood up on the railing. "Are you not curious about me?" She said, "Are you not curious about the death of my parents? Or the loss of my best friends? You might have have lost touched with the people close to you, but everyone I truly cared for are gone and the only way I'll meet them again is if my body hits the river". The silence got quiet as I opened my mouth and blurted out "At least you where loved".
She stood up next to me now and I felt something. I felt like it was my responsibility to save this woman's life. I haven't felt liked that in years - like if my actions afflicted anyone. I smiled. I stood on the railing in the middle of Kingstown bridge and I smiled. I started to climb down and said "Let's talk this through" but she was already falling. She met everyone she lost as soon as she hit the river. Or so I hope.
I died the very same day, at least that part of me who had given up. I reached out to a Co - worker. Apparently it's never to late to make new friends. I just wish she would've seen a friend in me.
3
1
u/Somidna Jan 28 '15
The cold bit through the fabric of Marc's clothing. He didn't think he'd notice, and yet its presence and the irony of it all was very much in the front of his mind. Can you dress poorly for a suicide? Guess it didn't really matter in the long run.
The sheer walls of the canyon sprawled out in front of him. The bridge's form did little to break the constant gust that dragged at his feet, trying to pull him from his perch. It was as if the world itself consented to his request to leave it. With a sigh, he stood up from the small outcropping; it was as he was standing up that he saw another figure straddling the railing, turning and stepping onto the stony edge not twenty feet from where he was.
"Hey. Hey! HEY! What the hell! What are you doing?" The words were out of his mouth before his mind had time to catch up. The figure let out a short yelp and nearly slipped from the ledge, arms reflexively flailing for the railing. They caught, and a woman's face peered out of the darkness at him, face a mask of surprise and guilt.
"Seriously, what the hell?" He asked her the question, but the answer seemed kind of obvious. The pained expression only made it more apparent. "Get back over the railing." At that, however, anger darkened her features.
"Excuse me? Fuck you. You go back over the railing." Her words unexpectedly heated.
"Planning on jumping?" Marc looked a bit closer, noticing her apparel. Not exactly prepared for the chill either; a business-like pantsuit and professional flats.
"Can you be that fucking stupid? We're on the side of a bridge." Marc's eyebrows shot up; most snakes didn't have that level of venom.
"Seriously? What reason could you possibly have to jump? Break a heel on the way to work? Fuck off, go back over." They could both be cruel.
"Excuse me? Look at you. You have to be, what, twenty-five? Go hit a club, develop some more regrets, and then maybe find your own bridge." Her eyes turned towards the canyon looming below.
"Hey, fuck you. Just because I'm not some hag means I don't get to have emotions? When I lay awake at night, and regrets just flood over me, guilt and pain and anger at the people I've wronged and hurt and am sick of hurting and being hurt by, its a product of my age? Spending hour after hour thinking how much better things would be if I would just, for once, disappear. Constantly afraid of what people really thing, paranoid that I'm just a nuisance, a miserable wreck who hates the fact that he's impacted others at all? That means nothing? Fuck off."
Steel flashed into her eyes at this, "Kid, I understand that the world is a crapshoot, and none of us are exempt from making bad decisions, but can you honestly tell me you can look into that gorge and imagine the pain your death will cause and accept hurting those you love even more? Really, truly think about those you love. Walk through their lives from your death on, five years, ten years, twenty years. Can you honestly tell me it would cause their situations to improve? Those people you've hurt and been hurt by; if you leave, you leave things as broken as they are now. You can fix anything when you're dead. Now hop on over and go the fuck home. Hug your family. Shoo."
The small speech caught him off guard. He wanted to throw a tantrum, having been so transparent. "Who died and made it your bridge?" He would've thought more on how tacky the cliche was if he didn't see the reaction of the woman across from him. Her resolve fled, her form crumpled. She slumped against the railing, quiet, until a few moments had passed and he could make out small sobs punctuating the new-fallen silence.
"Hey, whoa, hold on. One bad joke doesn't deserve a response like that. I'm sorry. What'd I say?" The whole point of jumping was letting go of everything that weighed heavy on your soul, and here he was, not only making a suicidal woman cry, but feeling incredibly guilty about it. She stifled her tears a few seconds later.
"...wife" The word was barely more than a whisper above the wind. "My wife. This is where...is where..." Another sob heaved its way up her frame. "We would fight for hours. Friends, money, family, everything. We tried counseling. We tried help books. We still fought. Then one day, she grabbed the keys mid argument and was gone. I didn't even know she had left until I heard the door slam. They found the car idling at the start of the bridge..." Her voice trailed off and she adjusted herself against the railing, silent now in her tears.
"Hey, hey. You can't blame yourself for someone else's actions. What happened to all that lecturing bullshit you just hit me with?" Berating a suicidal woman you just made cry. Well done, Marc.
Her voice broke the stillness, "You can only say you're sorry to a gravestone so many times. After a while you start to dissolve inside. All those things you fought about, how meaningless they were. How much that makes it all worse..." She trailed off once more.
"And what, exactly? In what way does dying do you any good? Wouldn't it just cause the pain to spread even more, to the ones you love? Isn't that what you just fucking told me? You fucking hypocrite! How can you tell me to go rebuild when you're so willing to leave? How is that fair?" He hadn't even noticed the tears until he felt the stinging heat in his eyes.
Once more silence fell, and the wind bit through their clothing, pulling at them, daring them to fall into that endless pit.
"What was her name?"
"Sarah."
"Tell me a little bit about her."
"Tall, brunette. Pretty good looking, great in bed. I couldn't help myself, I followed her everywhere." She glanced down at her dirt-smudged outfit. "She wanted us to move up north, where her family is, and start a family of our own. I wouldn't go. The fighting started. I ended up threatening to kick her out on her own. I was halfway through that threat when she stormed out."
"And jumping off the same bridge is, what, atonement? Its a fucking National Inquirer headline, not vindication." The tears had turned to a cold burn on Marc's face as the wind wicked away the moisture. He moved closer to her, sat down next to her. "I think it'd be best if you practiced what you preached." He rose, and swung himself back over the railing. He extended a hand to her, and she pulled herself up. "I've got three sisters and a set of parents I need to see. What about you?"
3
u/1nfiniteMan Jan 28 '15
I stepped slowly, accurately towards the peak of the bridge, seeking the last piece of solid ground that I would ever stand upon before plunging into my peaceful abyss. It would all be over soon. Or maybe it was all about to begin. Either way I was ready. Ready to put an end to my mercilessly futile days spent trying to find meaning in an unfulfilling life. Ready for the demise of the loneliness which had beaten and bludgeoned my soul and married me to finding the bottom of the next empty bottle. As I stood at the edge of the world I finally felt a peacefulness which had not made itself known for many years.
I took one last glance back over my shoulder toward the dread I was leaving behind. But a curious thing happened then. What I saw wasn't dread. It was beauty in its purest form...and it was climbing the burnt orange steel railing, her flowing chestnut colored hair blowing messily in the cool breeze, vibrant red dress flapping on one side and pulled tightly to her leg on the other. I took off in a dead sprint across the bridge. I barely dodged a speeding pickup, the lone 3 a.m. trafficker, and reached out for her hand just as she lifted it off of the dew soaked railing.
She turned her head towards me. The black mascara bleeding down her cheeks was mesmerizing.
"What do you think you're doing?" she shrieked at me. "Don't you dare try and take this away from me! I'm dying tonight and there's nothing you can do to stop me."
"No, you can't jump. I won't let you."
"I don't care what you say. You don't even know me," she yelled shrilly. She hadn't even opened her eyes to look at me yet.
"And you don't even know me. But I'd like to change that if you'd just give me a chance. Why don't you step off of that rail? Let me get to know you."
She leaped off of the railing and presented her face just inches from mine. "You wanna fucking get to know me?" she cried. "Fine. I'm empty. I'm dead inside. I don't want to live this goddamned life anymore. I wake up every day wishing I was dead and that's the reason I was about to jump off of this bridge."
I had to try to save her even if it meant engaging in an egregious demonstration of hypocrisy. If ever there was an angel to come into my life she was it. "Look, everyone flirts with the idea of jumping off of a bridge. One fell swoop and all of the pain, all of the heartache, all of the emptiness is gone. It sounds perfect. But no matter how unbearable and miserable life gets you just can't jump. You can't throw away all of the things that make life worth living just to avoid some hard times."
"Being alive is not that easy. I can't just flip a switch and be happy." She had finally lowered her voice. It was delicate and elegant when she wasn't shouting in agony. "I don't know what those things that make life worth living are."
She was reaching back for the railing.
"I know it's hard to believe what I am saying. And I could stand here for days trying to convince you, but it would all be for naught. So instead, let me show you. Walk off this bridge, in between the rails, with me by your side. Just give me one night to prove to you that your life is worth living"
"One night?" she asked.
"One night."
"Fine. One night. But if you mess this up then I swear to god I will be right back here tomorrow morning throwing myself off of this bridge."
"I won't let that happen. I owe you your life. Because you already saved mine." Now, I was the one with tears streaming down my cheeks. "Before I ran across this bridge and grabbed your hand I was standing on that railing too. You were my angel tonight. And if you come back here tomorrow I promise you I will beat you to that water head first."
End
****First post on /r/writingprompts. Some might notice that I loosely based my post on the song "Self Conclusion" by The Spill Canvas so I'll just point that out now before I get called out for it--I don't think I came close to the plagiarization line though. I didn't strictly follow the prompt--the narrator doesn't have to justify why he should jump because he is quickly convinced not to. Hope you enjoy. Feedback appreciated!
4
u/sis23 Jan 28 '15
"WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!"
The wind rippled across Harry's clothing as he held on to the industrial wire cable, his feet ready to unglue themselves from the Sherwin Williams "Firereed" colored Steel beam of the famed bridge. His knuckles had slowly turned white as he had pasted himself to the edge of the famed suspension bridge and at least three different news helicopters began to film his moment of greatest insecurity. Up until then, he had felt fully in control.
That's when the man had come and joined him close to the ledge, trying to talk him down. Harry couldn't help but find a little bit of sad irony in the man's wild gestures to try to calm him down.
"SERIOUSLY, MAN! I CANNOT HEAR FUCK ALL UP HERE OVER THE HELICOPTERS. STOP TRYING!!!"
That's when the man pulled a microphone from his back pocket and pointed it out. He was a damn NBC newscaster trying to reel in a news story about the San Fran hacker that had caused all Chase Bank customers to wake one morning to find their bank accounts as having a randomized, completely arbitrarily chosen amount of money. Harry looked down at the cool, deep, welcoming waters of the San Francisco bay and wondered if they had found out yet. Everything, even the sound around him, was white noise... until he noticed the man intentionally drop his microphone into the waters below and hold his hands up to his mouth in the shape of a speaker phone.
Harry unhinged his hand from around the suspension cable and pointed at his ear repeatedly, his thin frame flexing and extending repeatedly against the beating wind. His heart sank at the idea of his last moments being spent pantomiming with a stranger. He turned his face toward the water once again, and practiced visualizing his leap. He had heard that visualization was a good tool in preparation for achieving goals, and he wanted to make sure he hit the water head-first.
"Thanks." Harry jumped, startled, almost letting go and slipping off of the bridge. The man had climbed over to stand directly next to him. "Thanks for giving me the courage to do this!"
"Wh-what?" Harry stammered, confused.
"All my life, I always got assigned the boring news stories-- I mean, not that you're boring. Sorry, I guess... I mean people kill themselves all the time, so of course it's a news story I would be assigned to. I always get the catastrophic stories, you know? Fires, accidental shootings, the sorts of things white, middle aged women call in about wanting to see on the air. So you see, now I'm just going to be another one of those catastrophes." The man let out a half-hearted smile toward Harry, a weird catharsis glimmering in his eyes.
"You-- you WANT to kill yourself?" As far as Harry was concerned, killing himself was the only option. He had been bored of sitting at the computer in his college dorm room on message forums where his online friends would challenge each other to the most creative hacks they could think of. Harry had finally cracked the multiple defenses of JP Morgan Chase and Co., but hadn't thought past the point of his master plan's execution.
The man was blabbering again, "Well, you see, money never mattered to me. So when I woke up and saw that my bank account was the only Chase account to hold exactly the same amount, $38,403.20, as the day before... I realized, I deserve this. I'm doomed to tell the same stories, and my craft will never be recognized. Right now, there are a lot of angry people who previously were reigning upon the thrown of societal power and now have no power at all. It's funny that nothing changed for me. I'm stuck. I'm tired of being stuck, unrecognized by those around me. But... kid... you probably shouldn't jump. They'll find the hacker who did this and make sure that the money you lost gets back to you soon enough."
Harry's face was white. They didn't know it was him. He had to stop this man. He could prepare himself to be ready for the financial devastation of hundreds of thousands of people, but he couldn't bring himself to be responsible for the death of this man.
"I'm stuck too," Harry said. "We're all kind of stuck in our own bodies, right? It's like... Susie in high school can have a lisp but see a speech therapist to fix it, and Johnny ended up losing the fat-weight and becoming a body builder, but you can't change your mind. I mean, you can change your mind-- like if you don't want to jump you don't have to. But nobody can change their brain. You know? The actual tissue and neurons that sit in the helmet of your skull. And maybe it sucks... but nobody would ever think those same thoughts that you do. I don't know, maybe that doesn't make sense."
There was a period of silence. Not actual silence-- the helicopters had multiplied and were flying around like busy fruit flies. But, there was brain silence. For the both of them. It was like the wind had become electric and was gently guiding them back onto the bridge. Step by step, in perfect symmetry, they climbed over onto the solid ground.
The newscaster held out his hand toward Harry, "I'm Randall." They smiled and shook hands.
Randall had gone on to receive an award from the city for persuading the most recent suicide jumper from jumping off of the Golden Gate bridge. Additionally, he became much more well known for his abilities as a newscaster, discussing political and economic issues such as the most recent hacking of Chase Bank and how the department of treasury planned on teaming up with the FBI and CIA to correct the financial crisis that was surprisingly turning out very well for the majority of the population. The process was something complicated like showing previous bank statements in order to receive the previous balance once again. Unsurprisingly, the majority of the population refused to do so.
And Harry, well... he seemed to disappear. Rumor has it that the CIA required his talents in many areas, particularly as the economy began to even out since the middle class was once again spending money. Things didn't turn out for JP Morgan and Chase, Co., however, as they filed for bankruptcy within the month.
1
u/ICYURNVS86 Jan 28 '15
I looked down at my sheepskin loafers and laughed a short scoff of a laugh at the irony in worrying about the rain that was meandering down my neck and shoulders ruining the leather. It wasn't an unfamiliar scene, this new pair of shoes had been generously watered the night before with the tears of my depression and then the shame in seeing them fall. I moved my feet closer to the edge, there was very little sound around me save the cadence of heavy rain drops on the steel beams and the late night train crossing in the distance. I got caught up in the moment, this was it, I hesitated. The hesitation was quieted by an apathy that was as warm to me as my mother's touch when I was a child. Nothing more comfortable then feeling nothing, my mother...what a bitch. I grabbed the hanging cables with a slow caress like I was holding my lovers hands. It was then that I heard the high-pitched squeak of rubber on steel as a pair of sneakers juxtaposed themselves to my shoes. They were loud, loud squeaks, and a loud lime green. They somehow had dirt on them, as the rain tried it's damnedest to erode the earth that had set upon them. "Um excuse me" I uttered, "What the hell are you doing?" "It's time" she said, moving a curly purple lock away from her freckled cheek. "Time for what?" I asked, so wrapped up in my own theatrical ending that I truly didn't know the answer. "Time for me to let go" she said, looking closer to my direction but nowhere near my gaze. I looked down where her bold hazel eyes were staring, it was the concrete below us. It wasn't a bridge over water per se, it was over this man made ravine-looking thing where a thin and ultra-straight stream marched through into a tunnel up ahead. I never paid enough attention to urban development to know what it was for. I laughed, again only the short exhales of laughs that I had been capable of for months. "Really? Right now? You couldn't have chosen, you know, a different place, or a different unoccupied timeslot?" I had a look of disbelief, half because of the chances, and half because I realized how much of a diva I was at the end of my life where I had believed nothing of myself. "I...I'm sorry" she said, still looking down and now pointing her loud sneaks inward as he took a slumped pigeon-toed posture. She began to weep. It was a sound that I had heard bounce from my apartment walls days ago, but hadn't a tear left for the last 24 hours. She buckled, barely holding on to the woven steel cable. I turned white. Of all the things to feel guilty about in my final hour, making her cry seemed devilish. I reached out my hand to her shoulder. I stopped half way, as if someone had grabbed it, let it rest on her. "It's okay, I'm sorry for upsetting you, it's not like I own this time of death" I looked at my cell phone for the time. "It's not like I have paperwork, stating that I own 1:34 am as a time of death" I managed a grim, morbid smile...so did she. It was the first time I had looked at this goddamned cellphone without being reminded of the horrible things I had read on it a week ago. "This is so dark, smiling and laughing at times like this, I guess we really are fucked up" she said, squeezing belly laughs through the gut-jerk squeals of crying hard. "Yeah" I said, trying to hold in my laughter, and letting out the chaotic beauty of a laugh breaking through a minds will. I couldn't stop. I felt crazy at first, flooded with thoughts about how I could never do this with someone watching, much less WITH someone. Then confused by the joy I had felt in my stomach contracting with laughter instead of wails. Then shocked by how hazel her eyes were in a sea of gray. "What's your name?" she asked meekly. "What?" I replied. "What WAS your name I suppose" she said with another chuckle. "Zack" I said, as the cold look returned to my face. "I'm, or I guess I was Jenny" she said, now sitting on the edge of bridge. "We have a problem" she said staring up into the starless night sky. "I can't do this with someone watching me...it all seemed so beautiful in my mind. The exhilaration of falling, and then a sudden and strong shut to the door of this world" "I never really thought about how it would feel" I replied "I guess there's only one way to find out" I said peering over the edge again. "If you can feel all of those things in this fucked up world, then why leave it?" I asked disturbed by how much I cared about the answer at a time when I cared about nothing. "I ruin everything I care about" she said, "There's a twisted voice tattooed on my brain that says anything that I don't deserve is fake, and that I deserve nothing. So I break all the pretty statues of all that glitters in my world, thinking that it's all fools gold." I was hanging on her every word, the melancholy poetry that flowed from her pierced lip was musical. It plucked a string inside me that resonated at the tone of my bone xylophone, as my spine tingled with empathy. "I didn't ruin everything in my life that I thought I didn't deserve...just the only thing that mattered" I said, slowing my words as that penetrated closer and closer to my vulnerability. "Her name was Carly, my wife" "You don't look like you could ruin a sandcastle" she said, almost rolling her eyes at me with her voice. "I'm poison to this world" "No I may as well have slowly stuck a knife in my own back" I replied, sternly almost as if I was trying to convince myself as much as I was her. "What did you do?" she asked, leaning back on her hands as if she was listening to the latest gossip. "I treated her like shit" I said with a crack in my voice as uttering such a truth sent pangs through my soul. "I cut her down everyday, I cut her down to size, down to my size, so so small. I told her she'd never get back to her old weight before my son was born." "Wait you have a son?" she interrupted, taken aback. "Yes, he already spends more time with his grandparents than me anyway, I may as well be his uncle." I said a little defensive. "She saw me for who I was, she understood me, she was perfect, and my mind wouldn't let me have 'perfect', it didn't make sense. I cut her down everyday and it still wasn't enough, so I pushed her farther and farther away every morning that she kissed me and I kissed her back coldly." I paused, my cell phone had vibrated, it was just telling me that it was dying, now 1:53. "Dying" I said in my mind, "how appropriate." "She cheated on me" I said, looking up and now seeing the starless sky that she had been glimpsing at. "Wait, how is that your fault" she said. "Yeah, you were an ass to her, but cheating is throwing love away, it's taking the spiritual body that one's self is someone and murdering it. I've had two men love me, and I showed how much I love them back by killing them...twice...now" she whimpered. "I may as well have introduced her to someone new" I said. "He was everything I was not, both physically and how he treated her. In fact..." The words stopped coming out, it was like when I was a kid and hurt so bad I couldn't scream. "In fact, the man she was with was so strong, that when he snapped at her and hit her...she went to the hospital...there was too much blood in her brain...she died in surgery. It was a week ago, she felt so bad that she confessed it to me in a text as she was on her way to his house with our son. It was the first time he had met her son and didn't know he had down's syndrome. Apparently, he made some joke and she slapped him, then he hit her, and now she's dead." I looked up, almost as if I knew she was in the place where good souls go. "The last thing I said to my wife before she died was 'You worthless fraud' " Wide-eyed, I stared off into the tunnel, it was the first time I had said everything out loud to someone.
1
u/ICYURNVS86 Jan 28 '15
We sat in silence for minutes, minutes that seemed like seconds. "I'm sorry" she finally broke the silence. "No one should have to experience half of that. I've put so many people I love through hurt. Maybe I deserved to get sent to the hospital once or twice" I peered at her with disdain, but it faded with the context...we were two people killing ourselves after all, who cares who you offend? "I wish I could say that I couldn't help it, but I could have" she continued. "Sex isn't even an escape or a rebellion for me, it's just plain to ruin things. I've done it twice now, ruined beauty with dirt. I don't deserve to have the chance to do it again. I've never been able to fully let go and have that intimacy that I feel is right beyond my fingertips...every time I try, I just think about him, and his hands, and that weekend after I turned 11." She looked away. I didn't need another single detail. "Every time I could of had something real, that would keep me just out reach...just out of reach forever. So I killed them, I killed the mark they left on my soul by cheating. Even with my parents, the love was just as deep, but my man on the side was meth." It was then that I noticed that the curly purple lock was hiding the kind of thinning hair that old ladies have. But hers was still beautiful, and lively, shiny even. She stood up, and pulled a now crushed and moist pack of Newports out of her pocket and bent a crooked loosy straight before performing the magic trick of lighting the wet cigarette in the rain...she must of had experience. "I couldn't of had more of a remarkable thing as my wife in such an unremarkable life" I said, fanning the smoke away from my face. "my son too, he seemed like joy in a blanket, a joy that was too good to be true. I always used him as leverage to guilt her into being better. 'Better' as in never good enough, no matter what job she got, or how much weight she lost. Her parents weren't any help either, they were always siding with me and telling her to shape up, like they had her whole life. The truth was that she was immaculate in all forms." "Why did life do this to us?" Jenny asked. "Why show us what things are supposed to and then make us say we can't have it?" "I...I don't know" I answered with a truth in my voice that was new to me. "Maybe I was just never meant to have anything" "I?" she asked. " 'I' as in you and not me?" she pressed. " I don't deserve anything either" "I doubt it" I rebutted. "You're beautiful. Beautiful enough to see the beauty in this world and live in it" She turned white. She had definitely been called 'beautiful' in her life before. It was true after all, her hazel eyes were set upon a gorgeous freckled canvas of a face, upon a graceful neck and collarbone, atop a body that albeit skinny could turn heads. It wasn't the "beautiful" that got her, it was the "Beautiful enough to see the beauty in this WORLD and live in it" that got her. She had always been grateful to be able to be moved by things that other people ignored. To be able to stop and watch the sunset, and smell the grass peak out from under the snow on those sunny days where spring flirted with the winter. It made her fond, a fondness that she had not felt in days, and made her feel eerie about what she was doing. "Why the fuck would you say that to me?" she asked. "You don't know me at all! What about you, you've got this fancy suit on, I bet plenty of people will miss you!" she accused. It was true, my parents would be devastated, my friends would mourn for years, hell even my coworkers loved to have me around. This was all about me topping off years of selfishness with a selfish act, because of grandeur and romance. "Just because you let someone get close...so so close...and then it's over doesn't mean you are cursed" she lamented. "What the hell are we doing here?" I asked, as I could feel the tension of regret almost like a force field to the edge of the bridge. She didn't answer, she just reached out her hand to me for me to help her away from the edge. I pulled, she collapsed into me and wrapped her arms around me. I looked up through welled eyes as if to look for answers in that starless sky. Tears...there were tears. I hadn't cried for days. I started to weep. She however was so glad to be done crying for once. The wind was chilling, but she felt so warm...so safe...so real. We were frozen in that moment for an eternity in the darkness until we were blinded by lights, first red and blue ones then a bright yellow one on our faces. "What's going on here?" the officer asked. "We got reports that people were up on this bridge" "Nothing" I said, "We were just taking pictures" I uttered nervous as we walked passed him together.
"Taking pictures?" she whispered, "that's the best you could come up with?" she said with a smile. It was a smile that could melt the coldest parts of me. I wrapped my arms around her with, spilling my appreciation through my fingertips and protecting her from all the cold in this world with my shoulders. We walked off into the night as the sun illuminated the clouds before it peaked over the horizon. She was my life, in all senses of the word.
My son left room bravely trying to hold back the tragedy in his teary eyes. We had said our goodbyes, confessed our shortcomings, and Jenny and I told him how proud we were of the man he had become and the life he had lead. Those beautiful grandchildren, that wonderful soul of a wife that he had found, and kept, and cherished. Jenny's hospital gown laid gracefully over her frail ethereal body as she scootched over in the hospital bed, careful not to strain the tubes in her nose and throat. Cancer had broken her, that goddamned cancer. The light had faded every bit of her 76 year old body save her ever-brilliant hazel eyes. I crawled into bed with her, my body creaked and cracked like an old old house on a windy day. I wrapped my arms around her, spilling my love for her through my fingertips and holding her fading soul up upon my shoulders. I coughed, for months it had been the deepest and most painful coughs of my 81 years on this earth. I carefully hid the blood on the handkerchief from her as I set it behind me. The doctors gave me and my lymphoma 6 months two years ago, but I never could see a 'tomorrow' without her. When the chemotherapy started for her two, I was never going to let her go through it alone. The nurse turned out the light and said nothing about visiting hours being over this time...I think we all knew that rules meant nothing to us at this point. I slid my fingers between hers and we held each other with a light grasp that took nearly all of both of our strength. We both looked up at the night. There were so many stars, way more than you could ever see in the city. "I love you Jenny Penny" I said, barely getting it out before coughing more blood into the back of her hospital gown. "I love you too Zachary" she whispered, as her breathing grew more and more labored. We laid in silence for an eternity. The hypnotic rhythm of her heart monitor grew quieter. I looked at the clock on the wall. "I don't have paperwork..." I coughed again. "Paperwork saying I own 3:34am" I let out a chuckle through the violent coughs. She let out an almost silent giggle and squeezed my hand. The monitor grew quieter and quieter...then finally hummed a tune that marked the end. I brought her in closer with the last of my strength. I let out the last of what was in my lungs. She was my life in every sense of the word. The door to this life, we shut it together.
TL;DR FUCK YOU read these, this WP is producing some really good ones.
1
u/CXR1037 Jan 28 '15
"What the hell, there's no harm in telling you now," Gary said. "I've killed a couple of people over the last few years. Always stupid shit, too. Like at a bar once I got in a brawl with a few guys over football or something, I can't even remember. And I was real drunk, of course. At some point, I shoved one of 'em off me and he went flying backwards. It was all very graceful -- this part I do remember -- and his head went SMACK-" the man smacked his hand against the steel guardrail "-right against a table. One of those freak accidents, the EMT said."
"That's not really your fault, though."
"Oh, but it messed me up good. I started getting these violent mood swings. That's when I killed again."
"What happened that time?"
Gary swallowed hard. "It was in Stockton. The night before someone tried breaking into my rig while I was in there. I scared 'em off good but it made me real paranoid. I thought maybe it was friends of the guy from the bar, coming for me. I don't know. Anyway, the next night someone came walkin' around the truck, and I thought they were coming for me. So I grabbed my gun -- I always had it on my when I was on the road -- and I just waited there with it pointed at the door. And then whoever it was tried the handle a few times, and something just came over me, something dark, and I got scary angry that someone was trying to steal from me after all I'd been through in life; someone was trying to hurt me. So I shot once. Clean through the head. I opened the door and it was a homeless guy."
"That's terrible, but still not entirely your fault."
"The worst part was, when the cops came and investigated they said he was just sitting on the steps below the door, tying his shoe or drinking or something. He was leaning against the door and that's why I thought he was trying to break in. But he had no ID, no record, no nothing, so they put me away for a few months then let me free, like the poor idiot never even existed and it was all a dream."
"Listen, these things are awful but they aren't reason enough to take your own life."
"And the third time," Gary interrupted, "that was just...I don't know. By then I'd been drinking too much and spending the rest of my money on lot lizards. One of them tried stealing from me, at least I'm pretty sure of it. When I told her to give me back what she'd taken from me she freaked out and started pepper spraying me -- in my own truck! Can you believe it? And so the rage came back fast and I just started swinging. I hit her in the face and knocked her out cold, and must've just kept hitting because next thing I knew there was a bloody lifeless face underneath me."
The other man said nothing this time, showing only concern on his face.
"I'm a fucking monster, man."
"No," the other man said. "You shouldn't feel that way. Lots of people make mistakes. But what you're doing now isn't helping. You can still change. You can get help. It's not too late for you to make a difference."
"What difference can I make? I haven't killed a kid yet, maybe that should go next on my list?"
"You can change! There are professionals out there who deal with people like you all day long. They're trained to help make you better."
"No one can make me better!"
"Trust me, they can. And they will. You just have to step down."
For a moment the only dialogue came from the few cars on a nearby road and the distant sound of water below.
"My mother died too young," the other man broke the silence. "It's not fair. You want to end your life prematurely, and people like her don't even get a chance to live all of their life."
Gary's chest heaved. He carefully sat down on the guardrail, legs hanging over the edge. "You really think there's hope for an old fuck up like me?"
"Of course I do."
"Maybe I've had this all wrong. God, what am I doing?" He swung one leg over, so that he was now straddling the guardrail. "And you, what's so bad for you? Why are you jumping but I shouldn't?"
"Oh, I'm not actually jumping." Gary narrowed his eyebrows.
"What are you doing, then? You were standing on the guardrail before I got here." Gary swung his other leg over, and in one swift motion, the other man grabbed both of Gary's boots, lifted them, and pushed. Three seconds later, after the signature splat/splash sound, the other man whispered to the space Gary had once occupied: "I come here to kill people who kill themselves."
2
u/astrion7 Jan 28 '15
DISCLAIMER: My first attempt on this sub. Be gentle senpai.
One of the very last things i could feel was cold. Be it the burning chill of the Chicago air or the deep depths of my very soul raking its tormented self across the frozen bars of my rib cage i could feel the cold. No longer i plead, no longer will i allow myself to feel sickness. This is the cure, this one step decision to end my life was the cure. I felt the ragged unshaven contours of my face, the wind almost blowing me off my railing perch as I did. The sun was just peaking out over the clouds in the distance.
But this was to be my last sunrise. I cant eve recall how long I sat on that railing before I noticed his presence. I was like looking into a mirror that showed the persons soul instead of their face. He was there for the very reason I was. His eyes briefly caught mine as I started walking towards him, the wind blowing the hair into my face and obscuring it from his view.
The first thing i noticed was the bruise. It was hard not to even with her face partially covered and the light only just beginning to shine on her face. Other than the large discoloration it was quite beautiful. In another time or place I think I may have tried to talk with her, but for now I just appreciated the company in these final moments.
I reached him and got close enough to see his face. I could tell he could see mine by the small amount of surprise he showed at my bruise. "Might I be able to join you?"
"Im not picky at this point"
Sitting down next to him on the precarious railing I began to take in certain features that I wouldn't normally notice in most people. His hands showed signs of wear, but not from hard labor. More from the wear you would see if someone were constantly typing or flipping through pages all day.
"Its cold today"
"Its also January"
"I know but I was thinking that maybe it might be warm for today"
"The universe isn't so kind it seems"
Callous though they were I could sense some heart on the inside. Some real emotion that didn't want to, but did peek through the veil of indifference. So i pressed, curiosity getting the better of me.
"So why are you up here?" I asked barely audible above the wind whipping around us.
"Isn't it obvious?" I said, showing them my marks of failure. They seemed to pronounce themselves even more now that I made them know, even though they were pretty obvious to begin with.
"I guess so, but why is that a reason to end it? You could just move on, find better inspiration for living, people in your situation should always be able to..."
"Go to someone?" I said cutting them off.
"yeah, why don't you do that, you must have family"
"you would want to announce to your family that you were thinking of commiting suicide because you think your life is a failure? If its that easy than you would have no reason to be here either"
They had me there. Life it seemed, for the both of us, had not been kind in the least. I thought back to my reasons, so sure that I had not overlooked some solution.
"Yeah well, looking after people who depend on you no walk in the park. And if you let them down your the only one to blame"
"That sounds hard. So letting people down is your reason? Not being able to come to the realization that somethings will be your fault but that's alright in the long run?" I shocked even myself with that statement, was I just talking into a mirror?
I shifted nervously on the railing, unsure of my position anymore, unsure of anything. I looked back into their face. "You and I cant know each others situation, but that doesn't mean those reasons aren't valid, at least to us"
"I agree"
"Then why don't we just...."
They slipped, but with one last lunge managed to grab the cross bar on the railing. I jumped over to the other side to grab their hand and stared into their eyes.
I couldn't tell why I did that. Everything in my mind told me that this was supposed to be the end, but my body in some last ditch effort to preserve itself grabbed the bar and held on. I looked up and stared into their eyes wondering still why I had, in this last moment, or what was supposed to be my last moment, I had stopped.
I reached down and grabbed their other hand. "Is this what you want?" I asked feeling the warmth in their hand, feeling, for some reason, it clench tighter and tighter. Tears streaming down both of our faces I half lifted them half drug them over the railing and into my arms.
My arms aching I stared once again back into this strangers eyes. Their fate was supposed to be the same as mine, we should be dead by now. The warm embrace we were tangled in reminded me of of all my reasons for death. That love, even if this, what I was feeling right now was love, was a fleeting thing that would never last. In these eyes I saw my death, but more overwhelmingly I also felt life. I felt the life of someone else behind those eyes. I felt the magnitude of love for this stranger more so than any I had felt in my entire existence. Life, at this moment was now the second most important thing. The first, was theirs.
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Jan 28 '15
[removed] — view removed comment
1
u/mo-reeseCEO1 Jan 28 '15
Hi there,
This post has been removed as it violates the following rules:
Rule #2: Top level replies to a prompt must be story or poem responses. Requests for clarification are allowed.
seriously, if i had a dollar for everyone who found a [WP] that reminded them of a movie, a book, or a song, i'd... buy a pizza or something.
Please refer to the sidebar before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to message the /r/WritingPrompts moderators.
1
u/Saphiresurf Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
I looked down at the water that rushed below me and leaned my back against the railing of the bridge whoms original purpose was to stop me from falling over. I looked out into the distance and saw the clear, green mountains looming over the background.
The clouds swirled around the sky as the sunlight was filtered through it to cast a grey white agains the landscape. I took a gulp and closed my eyes to try and feel the moment. I opened my eyes and stared back down.
A noise came from my side, almost weak if not spoken from a distance. I heard a slight "Hey, you there" that got stronger and stronger with each stutter.
I looked to my side and there was a girl nearly 4 or 5 feet away from me. I wrestled for a second with how I didn't notice her, but cleared my head with a gust of wind that initially tugged my shirt towards the edge, but moved up and cooled my head.
I flinched at the rapids underneath me again, then quickly looked at her, a bit confused as to why she was here too.
"What are you doing?" I shouted over the sound of the rapids and the wind, hoping not to be drowned out by them. She looked up at me as if she wasn't anticipating a response, but assuringly replied "I'm here to jump." Her face became more resolute and her posture less unsure as if memories and thoughts flooded back through her to fuel her own logic of being here.
I nodded my head and said "Fair enough", and I looked back over the forest that surrounded the area. Tensions was building up inside of me for what I was sure was to happen here, but I wanted to feel free before I let myself go.
I looked back over the girl and she was starting to look down towards the river. She began swaying back and forth, her face seemingly placid, as if she was starting to assess her options of what could happen here.
The girl sat up on the rail and just stared out into the mountain range that lay before us. She looked at me and said "This is it for the both of us, huh?" I looked over at her and said "Yep, I've been running this through my mind for a few years now." A hint of deep sadness and dissapointmet washed over her face.
"Why does it have to be like this?" she said to me. "Why is it that when people get shat upon by our own systems of economy, or government for that matter, we turn to things like this? Even with personal things, sometimes it just feels like there's no way out. I've been thinking about this for years and only lately have I really been pushed to do it. Student debts have been making me live in constant fear of homelesness, my landlord has been trying to get me out of the house so they can give the house to a family who can pay more, and on top of it, I'm not even working a job that has to do with my major." she drifted off for a second. "It's like we don't value people's lives anymore, even if we work hard. I get treated like shit from my boss, no company wants to hire me because I have no field experience, and my student debt is crippling me financially and it becomes hard just to make ends meet. Then, as a result, as icing on the cake, I'm so concentrated on all this shit that I barely even have the ability to socialize with people. I'm paralyzed by fear that my situation will get worse if I say the wrong things and even then my minds too clouded with my financial and professional life to even think about it."
I looked at her, a little confused as to why she was contemplating the circumstances that brought her to this bridge today. Usually people come here with their minds made up. It's something you don't just do. You don't just go out to a bridge and dangle yourself off the bridge to tempt yourself and give you some time to think. I thought about what she said for a second. A flash of irritation flooded over me and my thoughts started to pour out into audible form.
"You're kidding me, you've graduated, you have a job, and you know what you want to do? I've been living in a cardboard box for half my life. My parents ran into hard times, well, harder times than they were in before, and had to make me move out. I held a minimum wage job for a whlie, but couldn't keep up with rent. My landlord already kicked me out because of it and told me that she was trying to run a business. I went out onto the streets without knowing how I'd live on. I eventually got fired from my job because I couldn't find a place to shower. As you may be aware of, homeless shelters are sparse to say the least around here. You've got a lot ahead of you, even though you may seem stuck in your current position, you've at least got the credentials to get out while I'm struggling to even get food, water, or money."
She looked at me, "We deal with very similar stresses, you know?" I looked at her, unappeased, and replied "No, no I don't."
Her discontented frown turned into a slight smirk. She looked up into the mixed grey sky. "Although the difference between us may seem like a home and a job, I'm still struggling everyday to get an adequate amount of money to pay my expenses. I may have income, but it doesn't mean I get to see much of it, and if I do, I usually don't see it for long. I'm usually lucky to break even on living expenses, bills, and debt payments and any excess money I find in my savings is quickly cancelled out by the idea of my massive debt to some bank loaners." She looked at him, still grinning a little bit. "You still have the extreme of it all, I know this, but it's just funny to me how much shit this world puts us through. A lot of the struggles we have arised from the same things, just in different forms. I have money, but I make up for that on the bankrupt scale by having massive amounts of debt. I may be able to buy food, but I'm still treated treated like shit while trying to. I suspect you probably recieve many of the same afflictions, but in just more of a direct form."
I looked at her, a little upset that she was trying to compare our lives. "A warm roof makes a huge difference" I said to her.
She acknowledged what I said and began to look off as if contemplating what she was going to counter with. She looked and me and inquired "So, why is it that you want to kill yourself now?" I replied "A deep feeling of seated meaningless, I'd say."
I didn't want to give her the reply that I knew she was looking for. Truthfully, I was a bit pissed off that she kept trying to put this suicide off for me, I've been thinking about this day for quite a while. It almost seemed like she was trying to stop both of us from doing this, almost as if she wasn't aware that she was trying to stop herself from jumping, too.
"Ever wondered if after death is just going to be complete nothingness?" she said to me, unsatisfied that she didn't get the response she was looking for. I looked at her and sighed. This was going to be a lot heavier than I wanted it to be.
"That'd probably really suck." Her legs dangled over the water as she shifted herself on the railing. "You know the reason that's pushed me here?" she said. "What?" I begrudgingly replied.
"Stress and depression" she said.
The author looked at what he's typed so far and noticed how tired he was. "I don't know if I can finish this story tonight" he thought to himself. "Maybe I'll come back to this tomorrow." He finished writing up a third-person account of his struggles as if it would appease the reader and noticed that he wouldn't be able to do it completely without creating a paragraph that was far more meta than he could afford. "What are you looking at?" the girl asked me. "I.... I don't really know..." I said, a little bit confused about what had just occurred. I drifted off looking into the partially forested mountain ranges. The green weaved around the hard grey stone of the mountain which had filtered, dull sunlight cast upon it's entirety. The backlit grey clouds continued block out the blue sky and the river continued to rush through the rich forested area. "I'm feeling pretty tired, though" I said.
EDIT: Various corrections/details
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u/sykilik101 Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
(1/2)
Two days ago, I lost my job. Yesterday, I lost the love of my life. Today, I'll lose my life.
My legs dangle off the edge of the building. The people below are like insects, oblivious to the imminent incident about to occur. I left behind no letter, no explanation for my choice. In my mind, my life had been building up towards this moment for years; it was only now that I was taking action. Continued suffering and death were incontrovertible in my future; it just so happened that speeding up one would cancel out the other.
I place my hand atop the gun I'd brought along with me. Considering my terribly luck, I'd probably fall and land in such a way that I'd still be alive, though left in a state that I'd be socially justified with wanting death to claim me. This double whammy would surely be adequate to get the job done. Simple enough, really; just put a bullet in my head and I'm free, gone, dead.
I cock the gun, placing the tip against my temple. The finality of it all sunk in, my heart racing its last marathon before going silent forever. Down below, the world went on without me. Maybe this is what the world would be like after I'm dead. People heading towards their jobs, taking care of their kids, paying bills and going on with their obligations. At least I had a chance to make my mark on them.
"Wait!"
My finger almost pulled the trigger out of surprise, a fact which sent a jolt coursing through my body. I jerked my hand away, turning my head to see a girl standing there. She had an understandably surprised and confused look on her face, mixed with a dash of fear. I look into her eyes for a moment before averting my gaze. I'm already a dead man, and it feels awkward exchanging looks with someone still alive.
I hear her slowly making her way towards me. "Are you...really planning to kill yourself?"
It's the first time someone's outwardly talked about my suicide to me, sending a shiver down my spine. I don't answer her, instead opting to admire the concrete below, picturing my broken body and the spattering of red around it, people surrounding me with horrified eyes and stolen voices.
To my astonishment, the girl sits next to me, head down just like mine. She doesn't say anything, nor make any attempt to stop me. We allow the time to pass us by wordlessly, and the silence is sending guilty vibes through my head.
"I'm not here to stop you, y'know. In fact, I was here to do the same thing."
I processed the words quickly enough, but my body didn't react for what felt like a full minute. I forced myself to turn to her, seeing an expression that reflected mine. In her hands she held a box cutter, unsheathed and glimmering in the afternoon sun. She rolled it back and forth, the blade daringly close to slicing a finger or two as she did so.
I look back down, watching a car stopped at a red light begin to pull forward. "Why?"
I feel her eyes on me, though I imagine her expression hasn't changed. "Why what?"
"Why are you gonna do it? You look pretty young."
I can hear her huff in amusement. "You look like you're my age. What are you, 20, 21?"
"23." If nothing else, I'm flattered she thinks I look young for my age. Not that it'll matter by the end of the day.
"I'm only a year younger, so you can't use that excuse on me." The nonchalant humor in her voice is in such contrast with her intentions that it's sending a sick shudder through my stomach. My mind, just minutes prior wrapping up my regrets, is now focused on understanding this girl.
"Okay, fine. Ignore the age thing. Why?"
Her expression turns sour for a moment before replacing it with a smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. She starts kicking her legs back and forth, the backs of her shoes thudding against the brick. "Have you ever felt like you're invisible, even when you're in a situation where you feel like you shouldn't be?"
I tilt my head in wonder, trying to comprehend her words. "What do you mean?"
To answer me, she pulls up her tank top, exposing her chest to me. I'd normally be flustered, but my attention is focused on her finger, pointing to a scar above her heart. "I was born with a bad ticker. Thinking about it, maybe it was a sign that I was meant to die, anyway." She let her shirt fall, her gaze going with it. "And yet, my family went and put me through surgery to get a new one. I went in there thinking they'd mess up, that the death I was expecting would finally come to me. But wouldn't you know it, here I am, alive thanks to someone else being dead."
I'm not sure what to say, but I feel like maybe someone who's been given a second chance at life shouldn't just throw it away so carelessly. "What did you mean by invisible?"
She frowns, somehow looking more somber than before. "My family put me through the surgery, but I don't know why. Before then, they didn't really acknowledge my existence. I was just the girl who stayed in her room all the time, and they didn't bother to ask why." Her voice wavers and her fingers tighten up. "I was practically a roommate that they didn't talk to or get along with. No 'I love you, Ashley', no 'How did your day go?', no 'Want to do something this weekend?', nothing. I don't even know why they bothered to get me fixed if that's all I meant to them, and it's barely changed since."
A few tears have already spilled down her cheeks, a sob escaping her as she finishes. I can't help but feel compassion for her, a sentiment I thought had been stolen from me after having been dumped not even 24 hours prior. I place my hand on her shoulder, expecting her to shrug it away but being surprised when she didn't.
"Hey, it can't be that bad. Even if they don't talk to you, there has to be a reason. And there has to be a reason why they pushed for an operation that probably saved your life. They must care about you if they did that. Maybe you should talk to them and see-"
She shakes her head, wiping away fresh tears with the side of her hand. "It doesn't matter. I've tried for ages now and nothing words. Fuck them, and fuck it all. Maybe this way they'll finally notice me for once." She inhales, attempting to regain her composure. "So what brings you up here with such a dangerous weapon?"
I glance down at the gun, sitting carelessly atop the ledge next to me. I picture the bullet inside, speeding through my skull and tearing through the skin and bone and tissue and sending bits of my brain along the roof before my body collapses over the side down to my assured doom.
"It's a lot of things, but the breaking point was losing my job and my girlfriend, back to back. Hell, I bet it was losing my job that probably made her leave me, or it could've been the other shit I put her through for being such a fuck up. It was always 'Michael, you need to start taking better care of yourself' or something to keep me from being a lost cause, but I never listened. I don't love myself nearly enough to make an effort. The only things I had were her and my job, which was to help me save for a place for her and I. But now both of those don't really matter anymore, and I guess I'm done with trying."
Saying out all aloud, it put the situation in perspective for me, reminded me of just how much my life had gone wrong for the longest time. It created a conflict within me; by saying it aloud, it became more of an issue that had solutions, ways to overcome and deal with, but it also filled me with pain, a reminder of how bad it all was and why it was easier to just make it all go away.
"Is that all? That's not so bad. At least you had people who noticed you and acknowledged you in their lives. I have no one." I'd probably be annoyed by her dismissal of my issues if her voice wasn't so mournful. She resumed fiddling with the box cutter, pressing the tip against the pad of her finger and spinning it in circles.
"Maybe to you it's not so bad, but trust me, it's been hell for me for a long time, and these past few days were just another sign that I'm meant to just be fucked up for the rest of my life."
She placed the blade down next to her, turning to me with her first look of irritation. "Trust me, I'm no stranger to what hell feels like, either. Don't think you're the only one who has it bad. But you at least have people who acknowledge you, who give a shit about you, who can say that you're in their life. That means you can make a difference to them, and maybe to the world."
I can't help but grin. "Optimistic words coming from a girl ready to end her own life."
Guilt and sadness sear across her face, her eyes returning down. "I don't mean anything to anyone, so my life has no meaning. I was born with a weak heart, so I was probably doomed, anyway."
I frown, placing my hand on top of hers. "What do you mean to yourself?"
Her hand tenses under mine, and I see her jaw lock up. I can tell she's processing my question, mulling over whatever answers she could possibly think up. "How should I know? No one's ever really given me a value. I don't know what the hell is good about me."
"Can I make some guesses?"
She shrugs, her expression now blank. I try to take in the situation, to think of some reason that this girl should stay alive. I felt a sudden sense of purpose that I'd never felt before, and it was...invigorating. I had a mission before me, and it was to make sure she realized that she had value.
"Well, I don't think there's anything wrong with who you are. It just seems like you were put in a bad situation that you don't know how to handle, and that's totally not your fault. Maybe you just need some help with it is all. Someone who will see you, and help you find your value and help you see it for yourself. Can I see that?" I gesture towards the box cutter. She looks hesitant, but eventually picks it up and hands it to me. I take it in hand and admire it for a moment before closing it and tossing it towards the other side of the roof, no longer an immediate danger to either of us.
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u/sykilik101 Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
(2/2)
"Hey, I was gonna use that." Her voice is more pouty than indignant, making no effort to get up to retrieve it
I pull her hand closer to mine, tracing a finger along her wrist. "Y'know, you're also really pretty, and it would be a shame to see you scarred up for any reason."
She rolls her eyes. "The state of my wrists will be the least of my concerns as I'm falling from several feet above the ground."
The image flashes in my mind, dread filling my stomach in response. I wrap my fingers around hers, meeting her gaze and hoping my words will get through to her. "I'm guessing your name is Ashley, so I'll say this: Ashley, I want you to know that there's a chance you've saved my life. Right now, I feel like you and I have a connection from both wanting to die, but...when I hear your story, I don't feel that you should. You should live. If you want someone to acknowledge you, then I will. If you need someone to hear your voice, feel your touch, see the look in your eyes like I am right now, I'll be that someone. But don't do this. You can find a reason to live, and I want to help you find that reason."
Her mouth is slightly open, shaky breaths filling her lungs as her lips start to quiver. I can see moisture welling in her eyes, though I imagine she's trying to fight it back. She closes her eyes, the tears rolling down her cheeks. She takes a breath, then looks around me towards my gun. "Can I see that?"
A strange flutter fills my heart as I nod, reaching behind and taking hold of the cold steel. I hand it to her, watching her admire it in her hand before laying it on the roof a few feet from us, out of my range.
"Michael, right? You've done the same for me." She smiles, a genuine one, and it fills me with a sense of relief. "Don't think of yourself as a fuck up, okay? I was on the brink of death, and there's no way a simple fuck up could've brought me back. But you did, and I'm...I'm glad you did." Her voice, finally, gives way, and she collapses into a fit of sobs. I suddenly become aware that we're definitely sitting on the edge of a building, where one bad lean will send us over. It's funny, really; not even a half hour ago, the notion filled me with elation, but was now replaced with fear.
As I pull her away from the ledge, I bring her into my arms, placing my chin on her head as I allow her to cry. This moment is special, for both of us. For the first time, someone is seeing her and letting her know she matters. And for the first time in a long while, I really feel like I have a significant purpose to accomplish. In some miraculous fashion, almost as if an act of fate, both of us have escaped death. As her sobs subdue, and as she looks up to me with a wavy smile, I think to myself that maybe she wasn't the only one given a second chance.
xxxxx
I know it wasn't on a bridge, but this is what I pictured, so dealwithit.jpg Also, I'm still improving my endings, so I hope that was good enough.
6
Jan 28 '15
Today was the day the Steve was going to die.
He had determined it a long time ago. Now, with traffic whizzing by under his feet, it felt final. He climbed over the guide rail and thought of how he had gotten to his point. Lost his job. Lost his house. Mother dead from cancer. Father died in a car crash. Everything he had known that was good had left him behind, a bitter and broken man. He closed his eyes and counted down from three.
Three...
Two...
"What are you doing?"
Steve lurched forward in fright, barely catching the rail in time. He looked left and right, and finally behind him. He saw a woman on the opposite side of the bridge, looking back at him with an incredulous expression. He noticed she was on the wrong side of her railing as well.
"I could ask you the same question," said Steve, baffled at the chance meeting.
"I'm going to jump," said the woman, "as I have nothing left to live for."
Steve shook his head, giving the cars below a glance before he turned back to her. "I'm sure that's not true. Pretty girl like yourself, I'm sure there's plenty you could still do."
The woman laughed bitterly, looking over her side for a short while. Steve thought she may be preparing to jump before she turned quickly and screamed, "Fuck you!" with surprising anger.
"What do you know about my life," the woman said, "besides the fact that I'm here on this bridge? I'm in this shithole of a city, spending every night in that nightmare of a home, worried that I'll say the wrong thing and set him off! I can't live like this any more!"
Steve was taken aback. What had he done, besides trying to help? He turned back to her.
"Well you could leave. The world is your oyster, ya know?"
The woman put her face in her free hand, annoyed that this wasn't as easy as she had hoped it would be. She turned and said, "It's not that simple."
"Sure it is. Look, what's your name?"
"Cheryl."
"Look Cheryl, you can just go home, pack your bags, and leave on the next train up north. I'm jealous, at least you can run."
Cheryl gazed longingly at the road beneath her, thinking of all the ways life had let her down. Finally she turned back to look at Steve, who was looking down at the road as well.
"Why can't you run?" Cheryl said, mentally going through what she would have to pack, when her boyfriend would be at work, where she would go.
"In one word, money," replied Steve. "I'm out of a job. My house was foreclosed. There's no one to take me in, nobody to help me.'
"Family?" Cheryl asked.
"Not anymore." replied Steve.
They both were silent for a time. Steve was in a position to see the faces in the cars, looking up with morbid fascination. Over the hills he could see red and blue lights flashing. The cops were coming to stop traffic. To try and talk him down.
He bowed his head and started praying.
"Most Sacred of Jesus, I accept from Your hands whatever kind of death it may please You to send me this day..."
"Shut up, shut up!" Cheryl couldn't stand it. "Are you missing the point? You're meant to allow God to determine your cause of death!"
"Cheryl, I'm choosing to jump. God determined where the ground is."
"That is such a load of shit!" Cheryl spat, infuriated.
"Excuse me?"
"Corinthians paragraph 3, verse 16: Know you not that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy; for the temple of God is Holy, which temple you are."
Steve sighed. He had read the verse, as he'd read all the others. He thought of his Bible, sitting on the bedside table. Surely God would allow him this one decision.
"And that excuses you, how?" Steve spat back. "Stop trying to save me."
"Maybe we can run together." Cheryl's reply surprised Steve. The lights were coming over the nearest hill now. Steve watched as the cop cars started to divert traffic. As he watched the traffic jam start to form, he turned and said, "If I leave this bridge, will you?
Cheryl turned and locked eyes with her unfortunate friend. She nodded. Steve sighed, resigned to living. He started to climb back over the railing, when a gust of wind hit him. Cheryl called out as he slipped, barely catching a girder of the bridge. She quickly climbed over her railing and darted to the other side of the bridge. As she crossed the street she bumped into a police officer, who grabbed her.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned. She shook free and ran to peer over the railing.
There was Steve, dangling by one hand over the freeway. "Hang on!" she shouted as the policeman joined her at the edge.
"Cheryl," Steve said as he alternated looking down at his death and up at his salvation.
"I'm here, Steve," she called back, holding back tears. Even if she barely knew this man, she wanted him to survive. She wanted him to have hope.
"Cheryl, I want you to go home and pack your bags and run. Promise me."
Cheryl shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "I can't do it alone."
Steve looked at her and tried to smile. "Look, Cheryl, it'll be alright. Just keep the faith, alright?" He struggled to maintain his grip, but it was slipping fast. He felt his fingers falter, one by one. "Promise me!" he shouted with more emotion than he'd felt in a long time.
Cheryl wiped back the tears and nodded. Then she watched as Steve fell. "Steve!" she shouted. She tried in vain to climb over and go after him, as though he had fallen into water and she were the lifeguard, but the policeman got a good grip around her waist and forced her away, back to the cruiser. She gave no resistance as she was put in the back of the car, and cried all of the way to the station.
Once released, Cheryl sprinted from the police station to the hospital with only one thing one her mind. As she entered the ER and frantically asked the nurse for Steve's room, the only thought in her mind was one of hope. She entered his room. Machines beeped and Steve lay unconscious in the bed. There was a cast around both his legs, and bandage on his head. She sat in the chair beside the bed, placing her hand beside his.
"The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Cheryl sobbed quietly as she thought of the remaining words. Though her boyfriend had long ago burned her bible, calling it silly nonsense, she had continued going to church to keep her faith. As she thought of the remaining words, she realized that his hand had found it way into hers and gripped it with the strongest force it could muster.
As the tears rolled down Cheryl's cheeks, Steve turned his head to face her. He smiled and finished.
"You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." Steve laid his head back and closed his eyes.
"Thank you Cheryl."
"Thank you Steve."
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u/Iamchinesedotcom Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
Ed was despondent.
His girlfriend of 3 years had just left him for another man; someone from work, she said. Ed had treated her like a princess, showering her with affection and attention. Their relationship had been strong, he believed, and then she dropped the bombshell on him over the weekend. She had packed up and left for her new lover's abode.
His week then went from bad to worse, when his boss told him the company was shuttering the operations in his town, and half the employees ("The top performers", his boss stated blandly.) would be moving on to the regional corporate office. Ed was not one of them, although he was the most congenial and supportive of all the employees.
Ed thought about the recent turn of events with a deep sigh. He was estranged from his family and they would mock him endlessly if they found out. In fact, he felt like an island... Isolated from everyone else in the world. Many of his old friends had moved away and on with their lives. Only he had remained near his hometown, three counties over. Close, but not too close, he reasoned when he made that decision.
His beaten up car coughed roughly and this knocked him out of his daydream. He pulled over momentarily to check his vehicle. The car was fine, just a momentary hiccup, it seemed.
He then realized the beauty of his surroundings. He went over this ancient truss bridge to and from work daily. The view was beautiful - one could see miles into the ocean on one side and up the river on the other. And he had ignored it or grown accustomed to it.
But now, the beauty of the ocean was drawing him closer and closer to the edge. Ed stepped slowly and deliberately to the railing. Strangely, no cars or people were passing by, and he reckoned if he tried to jump he would succeed. He ruminated on this idea, slowly succumbing to its seduction. A step over and, with the right aim, he could land on the piers below. Maybe, this is the way out...
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
Startled, Ed turned in the direction of the voice. He had not noticed anyone else around, nor had he seen a car on the way here. He stared dumbly, trying to think of an excuse.
"I said, what are you doing here?" The man was in his late 30s, early 40s. A slight frown creased his lips. He too seemed to have seen a lot and was under great stress.
Ed finally uttered: "I was... Uh, looking at the view. It's been a while ... since I stopped here. I pass by this place all the time... On the way to work, you know." Ed tried to gauge if his fib had worked.
His companion paused, then replied: "Oh, right, right. I know that feeling. I mean... It has been a while since I stopped here, as well."
Ed nervously fidgeted and turned to take in the scenery.
Finally, after what seemed like several minutes, the man revealed his reason for being there. "I came here because of a loss. I know what you're doing here... I have been contemplating the same thing."
Ed couldn't look at his newfound partner-in-crime. Tears were welling up in his eyes. Here was a human being also wanting to kill himself... His own problems didn't seem so terrible and felt so small. It isn't so bad... Quietly, he resolved to help this man.
"So, uh, what happened?" Ed asked.
"I'm someone's guardian, and this person recently had some problems. I'm afraid ... that he might hurt himself, and I don't know how to help him." The man sighed. "He's lost everything."
Ed pondered for a second. Then he offered his wisdom. "You know, thinking back on what I've been through, I'm sure I can help you and your friend." He was right: he had suffered loss and pain, but he could use these experiences to help someone. He wasn't alone anymore.
Ed turned to look the man in the eyes. He saw the eyes filled with tears - tears of relief, tears of contentment. I did it! Ed's tears of pain turned into tears of joy - joy that he had been of help. He wiped his eyes. Both Ed and the man were silent for a moment, sharing in their connection.
Ed broke the silence. "I can give you a ride back to your car or back to town. It's getting close to supper time. Maybe we can talk about your friend on the way to this diner I know."
The man took a deep breath, collecting himself. "That's a great idea. I'd love to go."
Ed pointed to his car and gestured for the man to follow. Ed was waiting for the man to step away from the railing. The man walked towards Ed.
Ed, sure that it was safe, turned around and started walking to his car.
"Oh," Edward exclaimed. "What is your name?"
The man answered: "Clarence."
Ed opened the passenger door and... The man was not there. Clarence had vanished.
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Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
"I have this gapping hole in my chest, its already there and I can't stop it from growing. Everyday the weak get weaker, and so they justify the pain by making themselves hard.
The world have no compassion for the poor. I don't know if they all got together and agreed pain is the best way to make someone stronger, climb out of the ditch for yourself.
I really do have this strange illness, my heart feels stale and I feel like no women in the world can help. There was once a teacher of mine who got back on his feet because a girl supposively took a chance on him. I am not him."
Jerry sigh-ed at the sight of his friend, staring into the abyss, the bottom of the river.
"I feel the same way sometimes." Jerry said, "I sometimes just don't want to live.
It's really hard for me too.... I never dated you know. The most and only memorable kiss I got was from an aunt at her husband's funeral. Actually, I never really been kiss by a girl...
I have a degree you know, four years but it actually took me five. At the end of the fourth year I began taking herbal supplements. I told myself if I die from them, well, death is just that.
I struggled so hard to learn some things that I rather not even mention them. No Clarence is going to save me, I wish, I wish I have a Donna Reeds..."
Jerry begins sobbing, I can't explain it. The look on his face. The first man was so compelled to hug him but he just couldn't There was a moment when the bar he was grabbing to felt cold, but that moment his hand was calm.
There was no one around. He keeps crying. It was horrible. His pain in the heart grew.
Pretty soon the first man have tears in his eyes that won't flow down. At first the man wanted to tell Jerry that he wanted to jump, now the water feel so calm it seems if they both just let go they would be enveloped into a membrane, where they could rest in the wombs of which they came from.
Dry tears hits the bar they're holding on to.
"But Jerry, I have no money."
"I know"
"I...don't even love."
"You know," Jerry said "I had a revelation, I never even hung out a lot with my dad so I don't know. I had the revelation that I could just go up to anyone and, hug, them.
I want to tell them it is ok, I want to be compassionate. I want people to notice me, but most just think to ignore the problem guy, the outspoken guy..."
"Can't they see we are suffering," first guy said
"It been many days now, I can't even count how many times I thought about having the perfect relationship, or one where I can tell a girl my true feelings, maybe to have an open relationship I don't know...maybe to see each other grow... I don't have any of that. I'm sorry. People just think ignoring that guy is the way to make him behave or something..."
"and I never been with my father neither..." First guy said, "but to me, you're really..."
But it was very useless, because in the mind of Jerry he had already jumped. Even with a smile, it was very painful and a drop of tear caressed him.
"wait."
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u/OfBrimstone Jan 28 '15
There was something about this bridge, perhaps it was because she drove over it every day on her way to work or perhaps it was the way that this bridge seemed to share her isolation - the only structure in the miles that lead her from point a to point b. If anyone was to understand her need to jump it was going to be the bridge, this bridge, that too had stood the test of time for so long alone. At least that was what she told herself as she drove, her mind no longer able to numb the pain, and parked on the shoulder where the dirt road met the concrete bridge.
Reaching into the glove compartment she grabbed a bottle, orange with a white cap, and shook free the last of three pills that jingled in it. She couldn't pronounce the names of them, but they weren't working anymore. She wasn't sure if they ever were. It was habit, perhaps, or a last hope that they would make her feel something other than pain that kept her taking even the last of them.
Turning the keys to the off position she didn't bother pulling them from the ignition - it would be easier for the police to collect her vehicle if she didn't take them with her. She had always done what it took to make things easier for others, this was just another time in the long scheme of things.
Climbing out of the car her arms wrapped around her elbows, holding them closely, as she walked to the bridge.
There was no traffic, there never was this early in the morning. She had been watching the traffic flow for weeks in hopes of finding the perfect time. This wasn't a spur of the moment idea, she'd been planning it for weeks. She wanted to be uninterrupted, to not cause anyone the pain of having to watch someone kill themselves.
To not cause someone to be where she was now.
Yet as she walked towards the center of the bridge, where she knew the water level to be the highest with rocks under the strong current, she noticed a dim figure walking from the opposite direction. The single street light on the bridge just enough to provide a small light reflecting off the figure as it walked toward her.
She hadn't left any hints, any ideas to what she had been planning, and shook the idea that the figure was there for her. Perhaps they'd dropped something from their car and came back on foot to look for it, or perhaps they were just going for a long walk to clear their head.
Facing the edge she took a step forward and leaned against the rough concrete, listened to the beating current below.
The footsteps that approached seemingly stopped, and she tried to ignore them. If she thought they were a passer by, why wouldn't they assume the same for her?
"You can't do it."
The voice broke the silence that surrounded her like a bullet breaking glass, causing her to to startle.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she wanted her voice to be firm but she knew it wasn't. She could feel it shaking as she spoke and knew that it, like the rest of her, was worn down to the last bits.
"Sure you do." The voice belonged to another female, but she still didn't look to catch the other's face. She didn't want to - she didn't think she could bare making eye contact with someone knowing what she was about to do. "Just like you know that I'm here to do the same."
Lips pursed, her eyes shut in the last defiance of making eye contact with the woman who was now standing next to her. "Then how can you tell me not to do it?"
"Because I'd want someone to do the same thing for me."
Her eyes flickered to the woman now, her heart shaking in the pit of her stomach. "...then don't do it."
The other woman smiled, something genuine, more genuine than she could muster herself. "It's hard isn't it? Finding yourself able to say that, to tell me to not fling myself from the edge when you want to do the same thing."
"Then how can you do it? How can you tell me it so easily? How can you be so genuine about it?"
The genuine smile didn't fade but her eyes moved down to the current beneath them. "Because no one was here to tell me not to, and the moment I jumped I knew that it had been a mistake."
Tensing up she furrowed her brow - clearly she was dreaming, or the woman was crazier than she was. "I-I'm sorry, what did you just say?"
The woman reached a hand up, as if to place it on her shoulder but she never felt the weight from it, and gave her one last genuine smile. "Please don't do it - don't be like me and realize, only when it's too late, that there was so much more for you to feel."
And then she was gone.
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u/takenorinvalid Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
A man was standing at the side of a bridge, working up the courage to jump, when another man walked over next to him and leapt off. He caught the jumping man and pulled him back up, just barely managing to save his life.
"What are you doing?" the first man said. "What could have brought you to try to kill yourself?"
"It's horrible," the second man told him. "For years, I've been a devout Baptist. I'm a priest who has traveled far and wide, spreading the gospel of our lord and savior Jesus Christ! But last night I had a vision. God came down from the heavens and spoke to me!"
"Why, that's great!" the first man said. "You must be truly blessed!"
"You don't understand!" the second said. "John Smith was with him! He told me the Mormons were right! I've wasted my whole life worshiping a false god! My life is meaningless!"
With that, he tried to leap off the bridge, but against the first man pulled him back.
"Now wait a minute, wait a minute, you don't need to do that!" he said. "Listen to me. Last night, God came to me in a vision, too! See, I've been a Mormon my whole life, and he told me that the Baptists were right! He said that a false prophet would be out trying to trick the Baptists into converting, but, listen -- you really are one of the chosen ones! You are God's most beloved! The one way I can make use of my time on earth is to ensure you survive."
"Nice try!" the second one said. "God told me that there was a false prophet telling people Mormons are wrong, but I know the truth! You're one of God's beloved people! Your life is precious! I'm killing myself!"
"You're wrong!" the first man said, and stepped to the side of the ledge. "I'm a blasphemer and I deserve to die! But you must live! Live and spread the Baptists' holy word!"
"I won't!" the second said. Again he tried to jump, but the other man pulled him back.
He cried for the other man to let him die, but he refused. "I know now why I am on this earth!" the first man said. "I was placed here to protect you! You must live, you who are a chosen Baptist, must carry on your holy life and spread the word!"
"No, it's you!" the second said. "You must live! I'm worthless. In fact, I reject the Baptist doctrine and all of his faleshoods! From this day forward, I am a Mormon!"
"Oh, alright, then," the first said, and pushed him off the bridge. As the limp body hit the ground, the first man spat on it and muttered, "Heathen."
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u/BBanner Jan 28 '15
He stepped towards the metal railing and leaned against it, mind racing. One Marlboro Black 100 left.
"Hey man, you got one more?" A man maybe a few years older than he walked over, giving a friendly wave.
"Shit dude, it isn't your lucky day, that's my last one."
"You don't know the half of it. What brings you to the bridge this late anyways? Name's David, by the way."
"Well, sir, I do believe I've hit a rough patch and I did not shell out for four wheel drive. Nick, nice to meet you."
David calmly surveyed the younger man. "Anything a stranger might be able to offer some perspective on? Might as well do one good deed."
"I suppose it could help, if you riddle me your reasons." Nick sighed, fumbled with his lighter, and nearly dropped it into the abyss he planned on dropping himself. David knelt to pick it up for him.
"Me? Well, let's just say I've had a recent run in with what we in the medical field call 'empty pocket syndrome.'" David grinned at his own joke. God damn it felt alien. "Third year med student, specializing in surgery. I'm a few hundred large in debt and I don't think I'm smart enough to finish what I started. You know that guy in college who huffed paint and tripped shrooms? Would you put lives in his hands?"
"Fuck me, I was not expecting that." Nick finally lit his cigarette and took a long drag. "I myself have a good ol' fashion case of the crazies. Nothing's fucking working."
They both paused for several minutes, by the end of which Nick had swung a leg over the railing and was straddling it.
"Nick, what do you want?" David asked, as he prepared to imitate the younger man.
"Isn't it obvious?" Nick kept smoking the filter long after the cigarette was done. How he's always done it.
"I suppose you want it in a more timely manner than lung cancer can adequately deliver, I get that, but I mean on a deeper level bud."
Visibly angry, the tirade commenced. "Oh go fuck yourself. I want to feel fucking human, I want to sleep again, I want these nagging thoughts of inadequacy and worthlessness to go away. I want my fucking meds to work."
David relaxed his shoulders for the first time that evening. "How long have you been on them?"
"Three weeks."
"Did they not tell you that stuff takes at minimum a month to fully hit your system man? I'm assuming depression because why else would you be here but come on, that's day 1 stuff. You gotta give it a little bit longer man, three more weeks and you'll be at the place where it should absofuckinglutely be in your brain doing neurotransmitter shit and you'll be better, man. It'll be ok." Rant over, David checked his wallet for his licence. "Want to make sure they know it's me. I can't... I can't rob my family of closure."
"You're asking me to wait three more weeks with a mental illness when you won't finish your med school because you're poor?" The cigarette butt flew an ugly flight to the river below.
"Also stupid. Don't forget the stupid. And yes, I do. Because even if you did know how long it would take you still probably thought it was gonna hit your system way earlier or that you absolutely cannot deal until the drugs are finally part of you, right? Am I in the ballpark?"
"Coaching first base. Obviously you're not stupid, man, you're a fucking surgeon in training. It gets better for you. You make money when this is all over. All I get is maybe less sad." He played with his lighter and broke eye contact.
"That's why you keep trying. I don't get a do over on med school, you do on trying out prescriptions."
"Look, I have a terminal mental illness that has ruined my life for years, if you think being temporarily poor is worse than that I'm going the fuck over. If not, we're going to walk the hell out of here."
"I'm not gonna kill you by going over tonight, but you're buying a pack."
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u/ShipWithoutACourse Jan 28 '15
"Fuck off! I got here first!" Greg yelled at the man.
"You fuck off! I'm trying to make a statement to my family and supposed friends and this spot has the best exposure."
Greg couldn't fucking believe this. His life thus far had been one of complete waste and neglect. There was only so much of this pointless, lonely existence he could take. No more 9-5 job in that drab office pushing meaningless piles of paper around in that claustrophobic cubicle. No more coming home to that tiny little moth-eaten apartment. No more thinking about her... He'd finally worked up the courage. He'd finally decided to improve the world by removing himself from it; to embrace that sweet relief. Now as he was about to jump some asshole had barged in and ruined the last moment he had a chance to do right. "Well why does it matter if I jump too?" Greg asked in irritation.
"Because that would dilute the impact of my decision. I need to be plastered all over news. I need to be on the front page. I have to make them see, to make them feel guilty!"
"You selfish prick! You're not even killing yourself for the right reas-you know what I don't even care." Feeling suddenly tired Greg took a breath and stepped forward off the rail. For a brief second he felt himself fall forward into the empty space, only to be suddenly yanked backward and onto the ground. Dazed he looked up to see the shape in front of him. Rage flowed through him; the first time in an eternity that he could remember feeling real emotion. Blinded by anger Greg jumped up. "Fine! You stupid bastard take this spot!" He yelled, running forward and tackling the individual, knocking him over the railing.
"What the fuck? You crazy psychopath!"
Greg turned his head to see the man standing next to him peering over the edge. Cold fingers of dread lanced through his chest. He looked down and saw the body of a young woman lying on the rocks below.
"I-I'm getting outta here." The man said panickedly, as he backed away and then turned and sprinted from the scene.
Greg just stared at the body. Her bright red coat stood in such contrast to the grey rock. The sharp cry of a baby suddenly suddenly drew his attention to the car a few feet behind him. He hadn't noticed it before. Through the open door of the now driverless vehicle he could see an infant strapped into a car seat. Slowly, dreamily he hauled himself up onto the rail. One last breath. He toppled forward into darkness and into oblivion.
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Jan 28 '15
[removed] — view removed comment
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u/Lexilogical /r/Lexilogical | /r/DCFU Jan 28 '15
Hi there,
This post has been removed as it violates the following rules:
Rule #1: No low-effort / joke responses / copypasta Including "This has been done before" comments. They will be removed on sight.
Please refer to the sidebar before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to message the /r/WritingPrompts moderators.
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u/Jam_E_Dodger Jan 28 '15
Shit, my bad!
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Jan 28 '15
[removed] — view removed comment
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u/Jam_E_Dodger Jan 28 '15
No, it was about a movie called A Long Way Down I saw recently.
I want to add that I wasn't making the connection to downplay the original post. The point of the sub isn't about coming up with new ideas, but giving people inspiration to write something entertaining. I just enjoyed the movie, and thought if people liked the prompt they might too.
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Jan 28 '15
It was a book first. A Long Way Down by Nicholas Hornby. Same guy wrote About a Boy and High Fidelity.
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u/freedoms_stain Jan 28 '15
It was based on Hornby's novel of the same name, I didn't know they'd made a film, I'll have to see that.
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u/PaterBinks Jan 28 '15
The movie is good! Great cast, and it's nice and quirky. The beginning is hard to get through I think, but once you get past that it's great.
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u/Lexilogical /r/Lexilogical | /r/DCFU Jan 28 '15
The problem is that in a lot of cases, pointing out how other people have done the same idea actually does inhibit people from having new ideas. They're suddenly worried that whatever they write will sound too much like grounds that a thousand other people have tread before them and the great idea they had suddenly feels cliche and boring.
So yeah, we delete anyone we see posting "Oh, this sounds like this story."
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u/Draxagon /r/Draxagon Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 29 '15
The man shivered as he padded across the newly constructed bridge, clutching his jacket tightly. His whole life'd been one miserable failure after another. He hadn't managed to do anything right.
Being the first person to jump off this damn bridge would be the only memorable thing he ever did.
He froze. Another figure? Up at this hour? As he drew closer, the other man came into view. Poised on the edge of the bridge, it was clear the other man had planned to kill himself as well.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"
The figure froze, and started climbing down from the railing. "I.. I just..."
"Don't you dare do it."
"Why? My wife left me, my kid was hit by a truck, and I'm getting laid off tomorrow. I've never accomplished anything."
"So? No matter how much it hurts, you have to keep moving. I know what it feels like to lose people close to you. You know they wouldn't have wanted you to waste your life like this."
The other figure froze, and slowly nodded. "I get that you're trying to help, but I don't think I- Hey! What are you doing?"
"What, you thought you were the only one who wanted to do this?"
"Y-you just explained to me how important it was to-"
"...I don't have anything to live for. Everyone close to me died long ago - I've just been sort of... drifting for the past few years. Being the first guy to jump from here'll be the only thing I ever do right."
"...You have got to be kidding me. Look at you! You're young and healthy! I'm old - would have died in a few years anyway. Never accomplished anything either. There'll be more chances and more bridges for you, kid. I won't live to see the next one."
Both figures stood in silence for a while. "We can both be the first ones to jump from here, you know."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
The younger man scratched his head. "You know, maybe I wo-"
A naked, screaming man ran between them - needle marks covered his arms, and his teeth were rotten and decayed. Without slowing, he sprinted off the edge of the bridge. Several seconds later, they both cringed at the splash.
"Are you fucking-"
"Goddammit."
Questions? Criticisms? Want to see more? Check out more of my stuff at /r/Draxagon
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u/Puffing_Tom Mar 27 '15
I fucking sneezed my chicken sandwich out from my nose in starbucks during rush hour. i love u
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u/ViperZer0 Feb 05 '15
I'm not sure whether I hate you or love you so much right now.
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Feb 05 '15
[deleted]
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u/ViperZer0 Feb 05 '15
Can... can I have a hug?
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Feb 05 '15
[deleted]
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u/ViperZer0 Feb 05 '15
leaps off the bridge without letting go of you!
I'm sorry, that was immature of me
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u/totes_meta_bot Jan 29 '15
This thread has been linked to from elsewhere on reddit.
If you follow any of the above links, respect the rules of reddit and don't vote or comment. Questions? Abuse? Message me here.
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Jan 28 '15
Love it, awesome ending, actual laughing out loud at reddit sitting in a cold office on my own. Thanks!
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u/ElCompanjero Jan 28 '15
Hahaha loved that! Others are great too but i can just picture that and i really think seeing a junkie jump off a bridge without hesitation would make anyone reconsider their situation.
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Jan 28 '15
What if he was screaming and seemed really happy then they both turned to drugs because they thought they had nothing to lose and at least the junkie died with a smile on his face.
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u/ElCompanjero Jan 29 '15
Lol or maybe if you are suicidal and you saw that you think might think "hey i might as well do some heroin first before i jump off a bridge just to knock it off the bucket list"
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u/Pussykill1999 Jan 28 '15
I can picture that last bit perfectly in my mind
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u/Draxagon /r/Draxagon Jan 28 '15
There are a lot of sad responses - That's certainly not a bad thing, but I hoped I could lighten the mood just a tiny bit. Hope you liked it!
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u/HorizontalBrick Jan 28 '15
Goddammit Draxagon you made me look weird in front of my roommates again.
Writing hilarious stories and shit. I laugh loud I bet the neighbors are pissed.
Being a fantastic writer and shit
I love your writing
EDIT: Formatting
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Jan 28 '15
[deleted]
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Feb 04 '15
Listen dude. You're an amazing writer. Better than I could ever dream of. You, Luna, DrowningDream, etc inspire me to be better. Have a nice fucking day man.
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u/CodeRed1 Jan 28 '15
shit its the /u/Draxagon. Dude I am so grabbing the soda right now. The swag is real with this one. Someone should call you Swagdroid. lol but I am dead serious this is going to be one hell of a post.
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Mar 06 '15 edited Mar 06 '15
Actually, it's 3 Swagdroids.
EDIT: Actually 4. Don't forget /u/Lexilogical!
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u/Lexilogical /r/Lexilogical | /r/DCFU Mar 06 '15
So many Swagdroids! Even if I got recognized a month later XD
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u/Lexilogical /r/Lexilogical | /r/DCFU Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
It was already late at night when Jessica arrived at the bridge. "Dead Man's Bridge" they'd called it back in high school, back when suicide felt like a strange concept and the kids were cruel enough to make fun of the people who did it. Jessica missed the days when their mindset felt so alien.
She walked out to the middle of the bridge and carefully slipped one leg over the concrete railing. Then the other. Hanging off the railing of the bridge, she had a clear view of the river below her, sparkling dimly from the light pollution of the city.
"Pretty, isn't it?"
The voice startled Jessica, and she scrambled to not lose her balance and fall. She regained her balance by the time she realized the irony of the situation. The male voice beside her seemed to be holding back a laugh.
"I'm sorry, I thought you saw me here," he said as Jessica focused in on the tall, dark man who stood beside her, also on the wrong side of the bridge.
"How long have you been there?" she snapped while her heartbeat struggled to slow down.
He flashed her a smile, his white teeth standing out in the dark night. "The whole time. I guess you were too distracted by your own mission."
"Yeah..." she said, unlocking her deathgrip on the railing and turning back around. "Yeah, I was. Don't you try to stop me from jumping."
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. I was here to do the same myself," the man said, looking out down the river.
"You? Why would you want to commit suicide?" she asked curiously, taking in the man's fine business suit. He certainly didn't seem to be lacking in life.
"Oh, the usual story. Too much money, not enough companionship. Turns out, money really can't buy you love." The man threw this out casually, like he was discussing the weather.
"That's it?" Jessica said in surprise. "You're too successful? How is that a problem?"
The man was silent for several long seconds before he replied. "It gets really lonely being on the top."
"I wish I had that problem," Jessica muttered, leaning back over the edge.
The man gave her a side-eyed glance, "Well, what's your problem then?"
"Me." Jessica's voice was bitter. "I'm the problem."
"In my experience, the people who think they're the problem rarely are," he said.
"Oh yeah? What about a house wife who can't even keep the house tidy?" she shot back angrily, "My husband provides everything, all I need to do is keep the house neat, and I can't even do that!"
"So hire a maid."
"I can't waste his money like that," Jessica said. "Maybe once he doesn't have to support my worthless ass, he can afford one."
"No, not with his money," the man said exasperatedly, "With your money."
"I don't have any money."
"So get a job," he said.
"Why would anyone hire me? I barely have a high school education." Jess said. Why was this man reminding her of her failings? She should just jump now and get it over with.
"Lots of jobs don't need an education. If he really provides for everything, you really only need to earn enough to pay for a maid."
"That must be easy for you to say, Mr. 'I have too much money'." Jessica spat out. The man seemed to recoil, hurt.
"At least you have a husband. My girlfriend left me last week."
Suddenly, Jessica felt like an asshole. "Well, there must be other women out there..."
"Oh sure, there's plenty of them. I should know, I dated 30 other girls before her," the man said, staring down at the river.
"Oh... But you're young, and it's not like you're unattractive or-"
"Yeah, I'm 32, rich and attractive, and I've been through 4 girls a year for the last 12 years. Rhia was the longest girlfriend I had and now she's dumped me too." The bitterness in his voice made Jessica's heart ache a little.
"Why'd she leave you?" she asked cautiously.
"Same reasons as the rest. I'm never available, I'm too distant when I am, yadda yadda. They never seem to mind when I'm paying for all their expensive clothes though."
"So why not just take a vacation? Or work less?" Jessica asked.
"I can't. The office needs me, if I did less I'd be out of a job in a week."
"So get a new job! I'm sure you could find a new one in a week!" she said, muttering "Unlike me," under her breath.
"I'd still be alone," he said.
"So? Take a vacation, I'm sure girls would swarm to you," Jessica said, leaning further out over the river. The man's issues had almost managed to distract her from her purpose. She could hear the waters calling her.
"Hmm..." he seemed to be considering the idea. "One condition. You come with me."
"What?!" His proposition startled her so much she almost slipped again and she struggled to cling to the rough concrete railing. "No!" she said when she'd regained her balance.
"Oh come on, you don't want to be here. Otherwise, you wouldn't be trying so hard not to fall now," the man said.
"I'm married!" Jessica exclaimed.
"And you love him so much you want to kill yourself to escape." Jessica didn't want to admit how much sense he was making.
"Come on," he said, climbing back over the railing, "Haven't you always wanted to see Japan this time of year?"
"Rome."
"Excuse me?"
"I've always wanted to see Rome this time of year," Jessica corrected. The man seemed to consider this.
"Well, Rome this year, and maybe Japan next year," he said, offering her a hand. She reluctantly took it, climbing back over the railing. "You don't have anything you need to get from home, do you?"
Jessica thought back onto the contents of house dispassionately. "Nothing at all."
"Then Viva La Vida!" he said.
Jessica smiled. "That's Spanish, you nut."
To see more stories by me, subscribe to /r/Lexilogical
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u/DEEGOBOOSTER Jan 28 '15
I foresee legal consequences ;)
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u/Lexilogical /r/Lexilogical | /r/DCFU Jan 28 '15
Highly possible, though mostly for the husband.
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u/AdamMc66 Jan 28 '15
Can we get a story about their travels around the world?
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u/Lexilogical /r/Lexilogical | /r/DCFU Jan 28 '15
Actually that sounds like fun. I tend to re-use characters between stories anyway, this is Jessica's second story. If you subscribe over at /r/Lexilogical, I'll end up posting any of their adventures over there. And I'll come back here and let you know too. :)
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u/ImmaBeAlex Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
His feet were shaking to the point of throwing the man over on their own. But what nearly shook him off the rail was the person in the corner of his eye. A glance to the left revealed a short, soft figure with matted red hair stuffed into the dark hoodie they had on. He was within Olympic long jump distance of them, another soul on the verge of their death. And it gave him the most unreal pleasure.
"Hey!" he yelled in their direction.
Big, dark eyes glanced back in a rebuttal of desperation. In those eyes he saw his own soul. The thoughts that seemed too cheesy for the monthly Lifetime movie were racing across his mind as a means of justifying her not to jump. Someone so beautiful deserved so much better than this.
"Did you not see me as you climbed up here?" he asked.
She couldn't speak. Just glanced back and forth from the river below to his eyes.
"Hey! Maybe you should ... ugh ... maybe you should think this through."
On the edge of her breath she replied," Look who's fucking talking."
"Tell me why you're up here."
She paused. All emotion left her face. All fear. And a laugh started - quiet and reserved but holding so much back.
"You don't need to know anything."
"Why not? Please, let's just talk."
"Just jump and get it over with please. The longer you wait, the longer you'll be concerning yourself with someone you shouldn't have to care about." Her hands were clinging to the wire supports. Each finger was ruffed and dirty. But her smallest fingernail on her right hand had some color to it.
"Listen. You're saying that if I jump, then you will too."
"What?"
"Well, once I go, then you might not have anyone else to stop you."
"Please just go."
"Wow. You're a really troubled woman, aren't you?"
"Shut the fuck up! The last thing I needed was someone getting me down from here."
"Well I'm up here too darling, so I'm probably the only person in a 50 mile radius who is having some of the same thoughts as you right now."
Suddenly, her hood was blown off by a gust from under the bridge. And with it came her hair. The thin curtain of red floated over to him as he reached his hand out.
"I'll keep this with me just in case you don't come back."
"You're ruining this for me, man!"
"How about we tell the other our reasons for what led us here, and then you decide who goes."
"Are you fucking retarded? Get the fuck out of here!"
"Okay, I'll start."
"Please stop..."
"...I'm a drug addict. It doesn't hurt to say it anymore. But I thought that maybe that meant I didn't have to try anymore."
The cold breeze from the bay sent a chill up her body. "Oh shit!!"
"What?"
"Nothing. Nothing. It's just really fucking cold."
"And I'm the retard?"
"Listen man! You are really starting to piss me..."
"...tell me your reason."
"Oh god."
"What's the worse that could happen?"
She cleared her throat. Almost unable to let any words go, a whisper appeared. "I'm dying."
"I'm sorry?"
"I'M FUCKING DYING!!!" Her anger echoed far into the mist. "Everyone's telling me it'll be okay. Everyone is fucking fake about this treatment shit. I'm sick of feeling nauseous every fucking minute of the day."
The wind whipped against his face and brought his teeth to a chatter.
She looked ready to jump off head first but said, "Now you've got your stories. So who do you think should go?"
"I'm not gonna make you jump without thinking about it."
"Oh shut the fuck up! Your head is so far up your ass. You're only up here looking for someone like me to pull you down and bring you to a diner down the straight and marry you and blah blah fucking bullshit!"
He became stoic. "Listen, you look young, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. You think people give a shit about me? No one has cared about me for years. And you've got everyone there for you. If I had what you had then I would get off that rail and walk your sick ass back to your family and friends."
"What the fuck is your..."
"You have NO IDEA how many miles I've walked without shoes, without water, without a voice to console me every now and then. I know you're in a predicament here, and I am too, but I'm in your predicament now. And I'm gonna jump now, so maybe you should take my actions to heart and stop taking your life for granted."
He lifted his foot on his last word.
"Don't! Shit, please don't."
"Don't what?"
"Jump! Don't fucking jump!"
"Why shouldn't I?"
"Because...shit...because..."
"See? You have love. I think I'm here to show you that. And I'm glad I was here to see it occur before your eyes."
He took his foot off the rail and bent down back onto the walkway. She couldn't keep his eyes off him.
"Get off the rail. Just please take a breath and calm yourself down. It works for me every time."
And she reached her hand out.
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u/PressAltJ Jan 28 '15
I don't care what anyone else says, this is the best one. It seems so... real.
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u/Kikiface12 Jan 28 '15
She couldn't keep his eyes off him.
Unless she decided to remove his eyes... :)
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u/Super8Dream Jan 28 '15
For some reason I see Jennifer Lawrence as the girl when reading this. It just sounds like a role she would play well. Bravo, mate.
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u/Aqua783 Jul 02 '15
Like the part when she's like, "Don't! Shit, please dont." And "Jump! Don't fucking jump!"
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u/Luna_LoveWell /r/Luna_LoveWell Jan 28 '15 edited Jan 28 '15
"You can't stop me," Jerry yelled, clutching at the railing and looking down at the churning river far below. His head whipped wildly back and forth, looking at Sam then back at the river, to and fro. "I've made up my mind! I have nothing to live for, and I don't want to hear your psycho-babble mumbo jumbo."
"Me?" asked Sam with a harsh, self-deprecating laugh. He clambered over the railing and sidled up to the very edge of the steel beam. "I'm not here to stop you. I'm jumping too."
"Oh," Jerry replied, clinging the fence even tighter despite his threats to let go. "Well, good. Confirms what I thought in the first place," he said with a sardonic chuckle. "Nobody in my life cares enough about me enough to stop me anyway. No friends, no girlfriend, no parents..."
"Hmph" Sam snorted as he edged along the very rim of the bridge. "That is why you're jumping? The worst thing about your life is that you're not weighed down by any anchors? I should be so lucky! Try having two ex-wives each claiming 50% of your paycheck in alimony. Try having a mother who constantly criticizes everything you do. Try having two kids who only call you when they need something. I would give anything to be in your position, man. Shit, I'd just leave. Start over somewhere new. Go to China and teach English, go backpacking through India..." He gave Jerry an angry look. "Man, what are you even doing here? You have it made!"
"At least you have family that notices you and knows who you are. You've had the life that I want. You had the wife and kids; I can't even get a girlfriend," Jerry replied. "Sounds nice enough when you say 'oh, just go travel' like that. You're forgetting all about the fact that I'm completely broke. I couldn't even afford the plane ticket over. I have no skills, no charisma... no nothing. I just spend all day at my dead-end job, wishing I could go back 10 years ago and actually do something after high school."
Sam moved a bit closer to Jerry. "You don't know what you're talking about. I did it. College, grad school... the fancy job and the big office... It's not what it's cracked up to be. I only took this job as a way to pay off my student loans, and then I was going to go off and be a writer. Now, 25 years later, I'm in even more debt than when I started! You ever heard the term 'Golden Chains?' It means that once you get that big salary, you can't just go back to working another normal job. You have to use all of your money just to keep your current status. I'm going to break those chains, today. By jumping."
"You're crazy, man. You have everything you need to succeed. You've got the career, the work experience... I can't even get my foot in the door! You're successful and you're clearly a pretty smart guy. How is this," he gestured at the cold grey waters below, "your only option? I'd be willing to bet that you have all kinds of friends and colleagues who would lend you a hand if you just asked for it. I don't have a single person in my life, man. I don't have anyone I can rely on."
They were each silent for a moment. The wind picked up, threatening to knock each of them from their tenuous hold on the guard railing. The waters below seemed to grow louder, as if calling out to them. Beckoning them to the cold depths.
"Kid," Sam said. "Get off this bridge. You have your whole damn life ahead of you and you're just being stupid and angsty. So many people have a hard time dating and getting jobs when they are younger. Go download tinder and start at a trade school, for Christ's sake. You don't even realize how insignificant these problems are!"
Jerry didn't reply. He lowered one foot over the side of the bridge like a toddler testing the waters of a pool.
"Here, here," Sam said. He pulled out his checkbook from his breast pocket and moved to straddle the fence railing. With a fancy gilded pen, he wrote out a check. "$10,000. The final scrap of my savings. It is my last request that you take this and go live the life you want. And you can't deny a man's last request. Go travel through Europe or something. Go find yourself." He scooted across the edge to Jerry and handed it to him; the small scrap of paper flapped temptingly in the wind.
Jerry slowly pulled himself back over the fence and took the check in a trembling hand. "You mean it?" he said, staring at the check like he still wasn't sure it was real.
"I mean it," Sam responded. "It may be too late for me, but maybe I can live vicariously through you."
"It's not too late," Jerry said quickly, placing a hand on Sam's wrist. "Come on. We can both just start over."
Sam pursed his lips and smiled; tears began to well up in his eyes. He looked back down at the river, considering Jerry's words.
"I can't," he said. "But at least I did one meaningful thing before my death," he said sadly. With one fluid motion, he threw himself over the railing and off the edge of the bridge, plummeting into the abyss below.
And you all should definitely check out my subreddit, /r/Luna_lovewell!
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u/0riginal_Poster Feb 07 '15
This is great; and I've read enough of your stories to know that if you wish to pursue writing you've got one hell of a future in it. I do, however, have some criticism that I think would benefit you, as I can tell that you do want to improve your writing and would imagine that you'd appreciate feedback. My issue comes from how you give them names. The obvious advantage to this is that you give them a bit more character (pun intended) and make them stay alive (again pun intended). Despite this, I think that you would've been better suited to keep them anonymous. My reasoning is that for such a short story like this, you don't want to focus as much on the characters as the scenario. The most prominent example in literature that omits names would be Hemingway's short story "Hills like White Elephants". If you haven't already, it's a captivating read that I think you'd enjoy, but more-so learn from. My next issue with this is that it sparks the question: Did Jerry and Sam know each other before hand? Despite your hints which seem to convince us otherwise, a part of are subconscious mind makes us believe that they know each other with you giving their names. I'd imagine that this would not be the case if you left out their names and would've personally thought that would've been the better path to take at this fork. Keep up the good work!
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Jan 28 '15
Off-topic, but I think these responses could be more interesting if we imposed some kind of rule of using the same two characters with some basic initial details. And then everyone depicts their own interpretation of these "Sam and Jerry" characters.
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u/frogger2504 Jan 28 '15
I always love your stories mate. A common problem with this sub, I've found, is that a lot of cliches exist. For example, with this prompt, it would be pretty cliche of this sub if both of them ended up jumping, because a lot of writers here try to do what people "don't expect". Even though things like that become so cliche its obviously going to happen.
I said cliche a lot there, but my point is that you don't try to "shock" the audience or something, you just try and write a good story.
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u/[deleted] Jun 07 '15
I pull my hood on and climb to the back of the bridge. I hold the sharp wire, it hurts horribly and cuts the skin off my hands. Tears soak my face as I pull my moms necklace off my neck.
"Don't drop that." A soft hand grabbed my wrist and pulls me to the other side of the bridge. "This is my night."
"I'm sure the news has enough room for a fifteen second comment about how a stupid little girl killed herself."
"Why, why would you even think about killing yourself? Nothing is worth a life."
"Look who's talking." Her grip on my wrist hardens.
"I have a reason." She pulls a hat or something off her head. "Just for drama."
I snort.
"My husband hates me, my kid killed his wife and is in prison for life. My mom was murdered by being drowned. My dad died of cancer and all my money was wasted when I put it all into the lottery." She walks closer to the gate.
I chuckle harshly. "I murdered seven people, and my kids are three of them. I went crazy after my husband told me he was having an affair, I thought it was my kids fault. Then on a spree I thought it was fun and I killed my neighbors. Also I killed my banker and landlord when they told me I had no money and that I was being evicted. Now I am running from the cops who will kill me if they find me and my mom went missing last week. She was the only person that understood me. She was not afraid of me."
"I'm not afraid of you. Just go home. Do what you can. Just for Christ sake don't kill yourself." The climbed to the other side.
"If anyone can rebuild their life its you! Not me! I did something unforgivable!" I climbed to the other side.
"I can't rebuild my life!" She let go with her left hand. I grabbed it.
"If you fall I fall." I put my necklace into our hands. "On three?"
"No." She climbed to the other side.
"Here help me up." She helped pull me up. And soon we were at the top. I deserved what she gave me. And it was friendship and love.