I’m all alone, like a wolf separated from my pack. I howl at the moon, seeking forgiveness in myself, that it wouldn’t have to end this way. I imagine my phone would ring one last time, possibly a sign from my angel above that I still have time. It’s never felt more numb.
Memories are stamped behind my lids whenever I blink, but life isn’t in slow motion anymore. The sky drops a tear, allowing it to graze the outline of my face before my rough fingers wipe it away.
The silence is deafening this high above the traffic, I couldn’t bear it anymore. After all, it’s New York. Even at 3 a.m, the lights guiding the narrow streets are still as bright as day. But all the way up here, I finally feel free. It’s only me and my reflection, a dance for eternity, as I stare across the building from the edge I’m standing on. The tinted black windows wrap around it’s outer walls, like wrapping paper on a Christmas present. Christmas is so beautiful in New York. It might be the only thing I’ll miss when I’m gone.
This taunting mind game I play with myself, I’m so sick and tired of it.
One last text. I pull my phone close to my face and press send.
I’m so sorry mama and papa. Those words cut deeper than a knife. An idea races through my mind.
Would my family’s pain have ended quicker if I had done this sooner?
I hold my phone out, as my heart plummets to my toes and I watch it fall to its doom. A doom I’ll soon be facing. Staring down at the height, I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek.
I’m almost free. I don’t stop to think about what I’ll miss, or who might miss me. Because I’m facing my fate tonight, as I get ready to play one last move in this game of life. The wind is whistling and the clouds are crying, and I suddenly don’t feel so alone.
The last thing I thought I might see before I die is the darkness of the night sky, and the cold air lifting me against my back, hoping it might save me this one last time.
Photo: carloyuen on Pixabay.com