I was up their, standing on the edge of that bridge, at last I had control. When people talk about suicide they say two things: 1st it's selfish because someone has to find you and second: think of what you'll be leaving behind. Nobody was going to find me in the depths of the great river bellow my feet, nobody would even know or look. I wasn't leaving anything behind, I had nothing to leave. I wasn't going to wait for death to find me, so I found death. The water lulled many metres below me as though it was awaiting my entrance. I took one last look around the city - I remembered how once I had seen its beauty, how each house light had been hope, how it had awed me. Now though, I saw only how man was the devil of this world; it's destroyer. At that I tear meandered down my left check from my dark brown eyes and I moved my feet. But then, I blinked...
My mind flashed through memories as though time was frozen and my memories were now all that existed. I was 2 again. My mum, having just put the baby down for a nap, was sitting down at a table in the sunshine promising me she'd play with me after her work. I'd been so excited that day that I'd actually get to spend time with her that I ran up the stairs and got my set of picture playing cards immediately. Smiling continuously I spent what felt like forever, but was probably only an hour, laying the cards out neatly and precisely ready for the game. Every few minuets I'd have a practise go before hurriedly setting them all up again. I didn't dare to even leave the table side where I set it up for fear that my mother would forget her promise to me or else the cards would get muddled up and perfection would be ruined. Eventually my mother sat in the chair next to me and quickly I explained the game to her then took first move. Suddenly the smile on my face vanished. I'd just heard a sound, that torturing sound that meant it was all over - that I was invisible now. My baby sister was crying. Immediately mum stood up and went to her aid without a word and that was it, our time together was over. Then the memory disappeared and another took its place.
Now I was 10. The wind was catching under my floppy brown hair and making it drift in front of my face, but I saw no reason to move it. I simply stood, in my new black suit, with my head bowed at the ground. People were continuously patting me on the back and shacking my hand and though I nodded politely at this - it meant nothing to me. No words nor actions could comfort me. Truly all I wanted was to be alone, away from it all but i new I couldn't be. So I remained in my spot, watching my fathers coffin being lowered into the ground. I can't tell you how long I stayed their - just thinking about the man I had admired. But he was gone now. Before long the earth was piled on top of him and I knew it for sure. My eyes were uncontrollable rivers the entire time, I had no desire to even try to hold it together, that was worthless. Then I placed a ring of yellow daisy's upon his grave - they'd always been our special thing you see, whenever he told me a story a field of exactly 1,000 yellow daisy's had to be included. I bowed low, for no better idea of what to do, took one final glance of the place where my father lay, turned my back and left. I think this was the point that I really turned my back on the world.
Again the scene changed. I was 11 again and I was sat in a corner completely alone. My headphones were in my ears and a book rested on my knees which up close to my face so that I appeared small, so I could hide. Friends, I had them, but this day had been my worst nightmare. My friends had decided that recently with my antics such as - temporarily stealing their things, saying things without thinking and generally being annoying (I'll admit that I was) - that for one day they were going to completely ignore me. The worst part was that my best friend had come up with this idea. I thought that this day would result in being the first in many, how things could only deteriorate further. When your best friends turn against you, there's clearly something wrong with you as a person. After a while I'd sat up tapping the book against the floor, trying to convince myself that the day wasn't real - i even slapped the book against my face at one point. But nothing happened. I was absorbed in my own misery, alone completely alone. My worst fear realised in a day. The memory lingered on the image of my tucked up form for a moment and then it vanished.
I thought that the next scene would be one of love, but though I'd had relationships in the past none had lasted more than six weeks and so weren't serious. The only person I ever thought I could have loved was above me by far. At this the image of her face burst into my mind and another memory appeared before me.
Me and her. It was from just 6 months before, just after I'd turned 16. I'd been having a rough day and with us being the close friends that we are, she came to see me, make sure that I was surviving. Her name was Emma. When she got there she gave me a hug as though she thought without it I would fall to peaces in front of her. I didn't want to let go - not ever. I remember thinking that if i spent the rest of my life there in her arms with her soft check gently touching mine then my life couldn't get better. We spent the day just talking about things that mattered to us, cuddling and holding hands, with the sun from the window shinning across our faces. I've always preferred things to be simple, but that day was more than that it was perfect.
Again the image changed. Suddenly all around me was dark except a small beam of light which was focused on me. A sound suddenly erupted from behind me. My band was exploding with excitement and passion - our first gig. The guitar in my hand felt like it was more sword - my right to power, respect and freedom. The crowd was on their feet punching the air with their fits but with a adrenaline running through me i only half noticed anyway. It felt as like lightening had struck me and I'd come alive. My hand plunged down at guitar strings at such speed I was amazed that they didn't all disintegrate. I felt like a hero, we all did - 14 years of age and we were stood here like legends. We were ablaze with life. After half an hour of our indescribable set, it was over. We waved our hands to the crowd and took a step back.
I realised now and only now that dieing wasn't wanted, because I had something to live for. I could create those feelings of again of love and excitement - no matter what the pain was those feeling would eliminate it. I wanted to live.
I opened my eyes to find I was falling. In the time it took me to blinked so much had changed but now I couldn't stop my fate. I kept falling. I had realised to late that death would not bring me what I wanted, it was a easy way out but it could bring no better than what life could. The water was only a few metres away. Then I hit it.
Instantly a wave of cold shocked through me, almost paralysing me. I flailed around in the water, but the strong currents just kept pushing me deeper. I was twisting so much that I no longer new where the surface was, where air was. My lungs were burning like acid as water filled them. I wished I could scream, wished someone would save me - but they couldn't. I needed oxygen but I could no longer move to get it. And then, it all went black.
I was laying back in a soft sofa opposite a glowing fire. A tree stood tall and proud in the corner with an angel looking down from on high. I turned to my left and saw my arm was wrapped around a woman, a woman that I knew. Her soulful brown eyes shone up at me joyfully. It wasn't long before I realised that this wasn't a memory, but a dream. In front of me, with a present in hand, sat a young child - my son. He shone and was like the life in me as he tore the green and red paper off of the parcel in hand. The light from the fire, the room and my family began to fade and i knew that this was what i had lost, what i had chosen to give up, what i had lost faith in. Then everything was dead.
The next morning the sun rose splitting the sky into reds, pinks and purples. In its gaze was an old city bridge which stood alone. Today the hope that shone down upon it was not reflected so radiantly as it had been the day before. Today the light new that one less would see it, one less would experience it and one more would miss it. Today was the same and yet nothing was.
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