This Time

Chapter 29

I was fifteen when I tried to kill myself.

The bridge I'd picked had no real significance - there was no poetry or romance written into my plan like so many movies tried to do when they portrayed suicide. It simply was just the most convenient.

The water churned fifty meters below me, and while the drop itself probably wouldn't be enough to kill me, the ankle and wrist weights I'd 'borrowed' on my way here would hopefully weigh me down enough that when my survival instincts kicked in, I wouldn't be able to swim to the surface. No one would miss me down there - Mom obviously didn't give a fuck since she'd just up and left all those years ago, and now that Dad was dead, I was on my own.

I didn't cry as I stood there on the wrong side of the railing - I was passed that now - and my hands on the metal beams were the only obstacles holding me back now. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and counted down to letting go.

"It's rather cold for a swim, don't you think?" a man's voice said, and I opened my eyes again.

"Dunno. Might be rather refreshing," I replied, not turning to look at the speaker. I would have expected to feel angry at the intrusion, but really I felt nothing. That was all I'd been feeling lately.

"You must be quite a strong swimmer if you're confident enough to jump in with weights like those," the man said thoughtfully.

A spark of irritation started to make it through the numbness, but I still didn't turn. "Yep. Just training. Don't mind me," I replied with less bite than I would have liked. Manners didn't matter anymore, I just wanted this guy to leave.

"Really? Because it seems to me you're out here trying to kill yourself."

"You sure like making assumptions, don't you?" I finally snapped and jerked my head around to look at the stranger who wouldn't take a hint and fuck off.

A tall white-haired man in a suit leaned against the railing on the proper side, and his eyes were calm as he looked at me. Kindness or concern I would have expected, but I didn't see either of those reflected in his dark gaze. Somehow, that made me feel less frustrated with him - I wasn't looking for sympathy.

"My apologies," he said in a level voice, still watching me.

"If you're here to try and stop me, or tell me 'life's worth living,' or some other bullshit you can save your breath," I told him, staring back defiantly.

"There's a spark in you - it would be a shame to see such a fire snuffed out, but this is a choice only you can make. I won't tell you such pretty lies," he said with a shrug.

"Then leave me alone and let me make the choice," I snapped.

"This whole time we've been standing here you could have at any moment, yet you haven't let go," he observed neutrally.

"Damn, it's almost like I was waiting for you to fuck off or something so that I could die in peace!" I shot back.

"Why do you want to take your own life?" he asked, cocking his head.

"I don't have to tell you shit."

"I bet I could guess."

"What are you, a shrink?" I snarled.

"Not quite. But I've been around the block a time or two. Let me guess - you've lost it all. Your family's gone, your home taken from you. So young to be all on your own... How is it fair that this life should fall on you? You never asked for it, and you always tried to do the right thing before now. Why should you get dealt this hand?" he said conversationally, and I stared at him wide eyed. "The heroes can't save you from something like this, and the rest of the world would just as soon turn a blind eye to a homeless teenager - what a blight you must be to society."