Free
Free
I wasn’t going to jump. Honestly, I wasn’t. I was just up there to look at the lights, to look at the stars that were in the sky, and to look at the passing traffic that blurred past twenty-five stories below. I wasn’t going to jump.
But then there was this wave of emotions – five million different ones – and suddenly, I was standing at the edge, my right foot threatening to take that one last step into a black journey. Death was so fucking appealing to me, all the sudden.
And I was thinking about him, and I was thinking about love, and what he’d done, and what would happen in the future, if I continued to stay alive. It wasn’t meant to happen, honestly. Then all the sudden, I closed my eyes, still completely unaware of what was going through my mind for sure, and I was flying.
It was a nice feeling. Like the chains that had been locked around me were suddenly broken, and I was free, free, free. Like he’d been attached to me at the hip for so long, and suddenly, someone had taken a knife and split us in half, unchaining us. I was suddenly the most free person in the world, able to do whatever I wanted.
Again with the five million emotions. There was sadness and anger, shock and confusion, and then there was happiness, as well. If I reached out my fingertips – spread them just a little, I could touch the air. It was whistling past as I reached the thirteenth story, twelfth, eleventh, tenth, ninth, eight, seventh, sixth, fifth – I began counting the seconds until I hit the ground and my entire skeletal system would shatter around people eagerly, splattering buildings angrily with red paint, and stabbing cars with ceramic white bone.
19, 18, 17, 16 –
I could hear the anxious screams of people who were witnessing the terrifying event that was suddenly taking place. Hisses of ‘Who is he?’ and ‘What the hell is he doing?’ were practically echoing in my ears, even though they were so silent that the people next to them could barely hear the questions.
It didn’t bother me, it just really didn’t. For some reason, even through the bewilderment and the heartbreak of the fact that my death was about to hit me full-force; I was strangely elated to hit the ground anyways.
12, 11, 10, 9,
I smiled and wondered for a second if he would miss me, or just pass it off as something utterly ridiculous. If he would find a new toy to mess around with – or maybe he would change, settle down, turn a bit nicer. My brain told me the answer easily; probably not. He wasn’t one for ‘settling down.’
6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!
The screams were loud, almost as unbearable as the force that hit me when I landed on the cement sidewalk. The pain cracked through me for all of five seconds, before I slipped into blackness.
Free free free.
But then there was this wave of emotions – five million different ones – and suddenly, I was standing at the edge, my right foot threatening to take that one last step into a black journey. Death was so fucking appealing to me, all the sudden.
And I was thinking about him, and I was thinking about love, and what he’d done, and what would happen in the future, if I continued to stay alive. It wasn’t meant to happen, honestly. Then all the sudden, I closed my eyes, still completely unaware of what was going through my mind for sure, and I was flying.
It was a nice feeling. Like the chains that had been locked around me were suddenly broken, and I was free, free, free. Like he’d been attached to me at the hip for so long, and suddenly, someone had taken a knife and split us in half, unchaining us. I was suddenly the most free person in the world, able to do whatever I wanted.
Again with the five million emotions. There was sadness and anger, shock and confusion, and then there was happiness, as well. If I reached out my fingertips – spread them just a little, I could touch the air. It was whistling past as I reached the thirteenth story, twelfth, eleventh, tenth, ninth, eight, seventh, sixth, fifth – I began counting the seconds until I hit the ground and my entire skeletal system would shatter around people eagerly, splattering buildings angrily with red paint, and stabbing cars with ceramic white bone.
19, 18, 17, 16 –
I could hear the anxious screams of people who were witnessing the terrifying event that was suddenly taking place. Hisses of ‘Who is he?’ and ‘What the hell is he doing?’ were practically echoing in my ears, even though they were so silent that the people next to them could barely hear the questions.
It didn’t bother me, it just really didn’t. For some reason, even through the bewilderment and the heartbreak of the fact that my death was about to hit me full-force; I was strangely elated to hit the ground anyways.
12, 11, 10, 9,
I smiled and wondered for a second if he would miss me, or just pass it off as something utterly ridiculous. If he would find a new toy to mess around with – or maybe he would change, settle down, turn a bit nicer. My brain told me the answer easily; probably not. He wasn’t one for ‘settling down.’
6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!
The screams were loud, almost as unbearable as the force that hit me when I landed on the cement sidewalk. The pain cracked through me for all of five seconds, before I slipped into blackness.
Free free free.