Freefall
oo1.
He cocks his head to the sky, curious eyes straying over the skyline. Boston lights twinkle playfully through the darkness, tempting him to step closer to them. His fingers drag his limp arm upward, stretching out to touch the delicate balls of energy, unable to reach. Always out of reach. There is a nagging sensation in the back of his head, and he attempts to blink it away, or at least distract himself for a moment’s time. It seems so surreal… Lifeless irises stray to the pavement far below his feet, mapping out every inch of space available to see.
There are fire trucks and also some ambulances parked below, sectioning off the road. Their previous occupants are pacing, wondering if they came here for nothing. Sixteen stories lay between his stoic feet and hard concrete. Should he take that last step? Should he become the headline of some newspaper? It would, after all, be the oddest thing to happen here for awhile.
He can sense them inch closer, trying to close the gap while there is still time. “Let’s talk about this, son. Just step back and we can figure this out,” the man behind him is saying.
“No thank you,” he returns simply. His voice is calm and holds all of the perkiness of a five year old.
“Come on, son, be reasonable. Think about all of the people who care about you. Let’s just talk. We just need to talk.” His voice is rushed, pleading.
“No,” he states again, shifting on the balls of his feet. His innocent gaze sweeps across the cityscape leisurely. A few pedestrians have now stopped to stare at the ‘kid on the roof’. A smile is playing out on his thin lips at the thought of what they must be thinking. Maybe he should jump just to put on a show. Yes, that might be fun indeed. A car alarm goes off in the distance, telling him that he is, in fact, still anchored to earth. “Do you like games?” the boy asked playfully after a moment.
The man in the uniform is caught off guard, and turns to his companions for support. They offer nothing but helpless glances, however, and he is left to find his own answer to this obscene question. “I-I guess so,” he replies uncertainly.
“Let’s play a game then, shall we?”
“Uh, ok. What do you want to play?” The uniform creeps closer, keeping the boy talking to buy precious time.
“I’m going to jump,” he tells him matter-of-factly.
“Wait! Let’s just talk!” the uniform cries out desperately, reaching out to stop him.
“Please let me finish. I’m going to jump. If I make it, I’ll gladly talk with you. On the other hand, who’s to say for sure if I can withstand the fall? That’s the fun of a game, isn’t it though? The thrill of chance, not knowing if you’ll win or lose. Don’t you think, sir?”
“Umm… please, son, just step away from the edge. It’ll be alright,” his voice grows higher, shockingly unstable in these last moments.
So, I suppose the game is on then. Good luck!” He smiles childishly, face portraying only innocence in its purest form. His foot moves silently forward, body falls into nothingness; lips curl upward toward the starry sky. Air rushes up to accompany him on his journey.
“Yes, the game is most definitely on,” he whispers. A secret between the air and himself.
There are fire trucks and also some ambulances parked below, sectioning off the road. Their previous occupants are pacing, wondering if they came here for nothing. Sixteen stories lay between his stoic feet and hard concrete. Should he take that last step? Should he become the headline of some newspaper? It would, after all, be the oddest thing to happen here for awhile.
He can sense them inch closer, trying to close the gap while there is still time. “Let’s talk about this, son. Just step back and we can figure this out,” the man behind him is saying.
“No thank you,” he returns simply. His voice is calm and holds all of the perkiness of a five year old.
“Come on, son, be reasonable. Think about all of the people who care about you. Let’s just talk. We just need to talk.” His voice is rushed, pleading.
“No,” he states again, shifting on the balls of his feet. His innocent gaze sweeps across the cityscape leisurely. A few pedestrians have now stopped to stare at the ‘kid on the roof’. A smile is playing out on his thin lips at the thought of what they must be thinking. Maybe he should jump just to put on a show. Yes, that might be fun indeed. A car alarm goes off in the distance, telling him that he is, in fact, still anchored to earth. “Do you like games?” the boy asked playfully after a moment.
The man in the uniform is caught off guard, and turns to his companions for support. They offer nothing but helpless glances, however, and he is left to find his own answer to this obscene question. “I-I guess so,” he replies uncertainly.
“Let’s play a game then, shall we?”
“Uh, ok. What do you want to play?” The uniform creeps closer, keeping the boy talking to buy precious time.
“I’m going to jump,” he tells him matter-of-factly.
“Wait! Let’s just talk!” the uniform cries out desperately, reaching out to stop him.
“Please let me finish. I’m going to jump. If I make it, I’ll gladly talk with you. On the other hand, who’s to say for sure if I can withstand the fall? That’s the fun of a game, isn’t it though? The thrill of chance, not knowing if you’ll win or lose. Don’t you think, sir?”
“Umm… please, son, just step away from the edge. It’ll be alright,” his voice grows higher, shockingly unstable in these last moments.
So, I suppose the game is on then. Good luck!” He smiles childishly, face portraying only innocence in its purest form. His foot moves silently forward, body falls into nothingness; lips curl upward toward the starry sky. Air rushes up to accompany him on his journey.
“Yes, the game is most definitely on,” he whispers. A secret between the air and himself.