rain. |h.s|

01

I can hear news reporters tumbling around to get the "exclusive shot." The ring in my ears grows louder and louder almost silencing all the other noises. My eyes feel heavy, like they're carrying a lifetime's worth of pain and tire. My mouth isn't trusted enough to speak yet, there are a whirl of emotions swallowing me up all at once. My ears are still muffling all outside speech, and my nose feels dry and it's hard to breathe.

"Noelle, oh my god. What the— what happened?" An all to familiar male voice says in concern through ragged breaths.

It's my ex boyfriend, George.

That became my ex boyfriend just 10 minutes ago.

"Baby— I mean, Noelle, talk to me." He tries just as hard as Mr Jane.

Truth is, I don't know. I don't know how any of this happened. All I know is, me and my boyfriend of three years got into an argument, broke up, I drove angrily home, and there my mother lied dead right in front of me as I opened the front door. But I don't think I have the strength to express all that with my lips.

The ringing completely drowns out the sound of any and all of my surroundings, my eyes staying glued on the building as Mr Jane and George continue their pleads for my attention.

Instead I free myself of Mr Jane's loose grip, starting a walk to the building. I hear very faint murmurs behind me, George trying to grab my wrist to stop me from my journey. There's a  barely audible, "Where are you going?" from George, and a, "We need a shock blanket over here." from Mr Jane. But I don't stop. I'm only about three feet from the side of the building. I know the building. Harlow and I always used to sit up there when we were kids. We would tell each other silly innocent stories, and race the cars passing down the roads below us.

But that isn't my purpose this time. I just need all of the hurt to be gone. All the pain to be gone. All the confusion to be gone. All the anger to be gone. And that's exactly my plan. Because no one needs me here. They never needed me. My whole life was just a whole waste. This week wasn't good to begin with. Why suffer longer? Why hold a god damn funeral for my best friend? She's not here. I don't want any comfort or consolation from anyone but her. But it's too late for that. And it's too much for me. I have no purpose here. I'm done.

Their quiet chants continue to hum behind me as I reach the entrance of the building. I feel George grab my arm, turning me to face him.

"Noelle! Answer me." He begs and screams, moving his brown hair out of his face.

"Can you give me a moment please?" I finally speak, adding, "I'll be back in five minutes."

He tries to argue, but Mr Jane mouths to him, 'It's okay.' I wish I could say goodbye to Harlow before I go. She did so much for me. But she's probably still ten minutes away, and I haven't got any time to lose. Maybe I'll finally be at peace. After everything that's happened to me and my mom, maybe I'll be okay now. Maybe this was the universe's sign for me to let go. I make my way to the side of the building, where the familiar ladder hooks itself on the top of the building. It's a long climb, the drop must be at least a 100 foot drop. My sweaty hands latch themselves on the rusted metal handles of the ladder, attempting to hoist me up enough to reach the next step. I'm ready. All I have to do is get to the top, and I'm free. I won't have to fake being okay after my mother's death, I won't have to fix my relationship with George, I won't have to deal with any pain whatsoever. After my fall, I'll be at peace. I can vanish into nothingness, away from my excuse of a life. I never wanted it to end like this, but now considering both my parents are either dead or missing, I have no reason to exist. My palms continue traveling their way up the ladder, my eyes not wanting to look down.

Never mind, death may not be so easy after all. This kind of freaks me out.

As soon as George realizes my intentions, he bolts to Mr Jane. If I want peace, I better make that quick. I look up at the few steps left on my journey, one more tear trailing down my cheek as I smile a little. That smile is doing its level best to restrain the gallons of tears poking behind my eyes.