When Forever Ends

Frank felt like he was sinking.

There was a feeling in his stomach… A feeling that was dark, and sickening… A feeling that made him want to go into a dark room and never come out. He was done with life, done with all the bad things that came with it. There just wasn’t enough good to make up for the bad anymore.

He was finally done; nothing could change his mind as he walked briskly down the New Jersey sidewalk, keeping his gaze on the gravel beneath his feet.

Tonight, it would all end. Everything would be gone, it would all disappear. There would be no more problems, no more depression… Even if he went to hell, it would be better than where he was now.

Frank dug around in his jeans pocket, desperately searching for the three small pills he’d stored there in case he started to doubt himself, and what he was about to do. He pulled them out of his pocket, examining their light purple exterior before shoving them into his mouth and swallowing them dry, praying they would soon take their effect and calm his nerves.

Frank nodded to himself, and began to walk faster. He tried to focus on the shuffle of his footsteps scraping on the pavement—focus on anything—other than the twisting fear that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He would not turn back now.

Finally, after what felt like hours the stone bridge Frank had been heading to came into view. Frank and his father had always come here to play when he had only been a child. Before his dad got the big promotion, before he started drinking… Before his father became abusive to Frank and his mother.

Frank scanned the area quickly. No one was around; just trees, water, and the bridge he’d soon be standing on.

He swallowed, feeling a wave of dizziness, as the pills began to do their magic. Frank nodded, relieved that he’d soon not be thinking about the overwhelming fear and more about the feeling the pills would be giving him.
When he reached the center of the bridge, Frank let out his breath, all of the breath he had been holding for over a minute.

Frank placed his hands on the cool stone edge of the bridge, shutting his eyes tightly. This was his moment. He’d left his mother a note, telling her goodbye, not to worry. That he’d be better off, as would she. He’d written that he would miss her, but not to cry for him. He would be in a better place, if not heaven than hell. He didn’t deserve to go to heaven anyways, and he didn’t expect to go there.

Frank knew deep down that the note would not matter… Not to his mother. He knew that she would not even read the whole thing, before breaking down in tears, calling his father—

Frank shook the thoughts out of his mind, he would not cry. He could feel the tears begin to sting at the back of his eyes, and he put all of his will into holding them back.

Pulling himself onto the thick stone railing of the bridge, for once Frank felt tall. Like nothing in the world could stop him… He felt free. Looking down at the murky green water, he felt nothing but relief, and he small high the pills were giving him. He was finally ready.

He was finally ready to die.

Everything, in that moment, as Frank began to take a step forward—his last step—seemed to disappear, all of the fear, the pain, the suffering…

The faint sound of shuffling footsteps in the distance made Frank stop his movement abruptly, the sense of panic running through Frank like an electric shock, as he nearly fell backwards onto the bridge behind him.

He spun his head around, in the direction of the footsteps. There was a man—no, a guy, no older than seventeen walking near the beginning of the bridge, keeping his head down, and his hand was over his nose. He was dressed all in black, all the way from his oversized Misfits hoodie, to his skinny jeans, to his worn converse. His shoulders were visibly shaking, and quiet, choked sobs were coming out of his throat.

Frank tried to jump down from the bridge as quietly as possible, but his shoes made a loud smack as they hit the paved floor of the bridge. The boy looked up, startled, his eyes widened with fear.
Frank could see the smudges of blood on his cheeks and his chin, and even some on the hand he held on his face.
The guy spun around, and started with a limp off of the bridge away from Frank. Frank gave one questioning look to his back before he called out.

“Hey!” Frank yelled softly. The boy stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“Hey, man, you okay?” Despite Frank’s state, he felt like he needed to help this guy. There was just something about him, maybe the unnecessary fear of Frank, that made Frank feel he needed to try to help.

The black, greasy haired boy turned around, and just looked at Frank with his pretty hazel eyes.

“Are you okay, man?” Frank asked again. The guy dropped his hand, revealing a small, blood covered pixy nose that was flowing with blood. His lip was split open, fresh blood dripping down his chin.

He shook his head, lowering his eyes, and his shoulders hitched once.

“Do you need help? A hospital? What happened?” Frank asked, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to understand better.

“I—it’s nothing.” He said in a nasally voice. He lowered his eyes again, looking down at his shoes.

“It sure as hell doesn’t look like nothing,” Frank said, taking one careful step forward. “You need to get cleaned up…”
He nodded.

“I’m Gerard.” He said, holding out a hand, a hand that was not covered in blood. Frank reached out and shook it tightly.

“Frank,” He said with a sigh. “Look, man, want me to help? You gotta get cleaned up, that doesn’t look good.”

Gerard wiped some of the blood from under his nose with the back of his hand, and shook his head. “No, it’s okay—”

“It’s not okay,” Frank shook his head, “Look, do you need help or not? The offer’s going to expire and you’re gonna be on your own so decide.” Frank snapped.

Gerard flinched at the sound of Frank’s voice raising at him, and a flash of hurt flickered in Gerard’s eyes, but quickly disappeared.
Frank immediately regretted what he’d said, and frowned for a moment. “So, can I help you out?”

Gerard nodded, shutting his eyes briefly.

“Thanks, Frank.”