Weeping Angels

Part III: The Bridge.

The night was impenetrably dark, and the air was bitterly cold. Kettu kept his pace slow as he walked through the vacant streets, his eyes again on the ground. The practice had gone well, all except his song, which garnered more laughs from his band mates as they continually needed to restart and perfect their timing. The lyrics themselves also got a good running through from Jack, who kept making references to wrist cutting and emo music. Kettu sighed, such a poetic opus of his deepest thoughts was mocked once again, put on show like a freak to be laughed at and ridiculed. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t a songwriter, he wasn’t even a satisfactory musician. He never once remembered succeeding at anything he did, and that only added to the pit of hopelessness that he was already over his head in. He wondered if maybe he should’ve gone back to school like his mom had suggested, gotten his degree and made something of himself. But that all seemed so far away, and the days of college were just as empty and lifeless as the ones he experienced now. There was no motivation to stay, and no hope of continuing his education once the money started to run out. Now, he was stuck in poverty, in a hopeless, endless cycle of acquiring and dishing out money to his landlord and utility companies.

He felt like a slave to it all.

Kettu came to the City Center bridge, the towering structure reaching high into the night sky, alight with tiny luminescent bulbs that burned like fireflies that were carefully strung along it’s steel structure and down its cables, reminding him of Christmases gone past, how lights had been hung from the front porch of his childhood home.

Home.

He didn’t think too often of his past. Those dark, painful memories were too much for him to face again. He swallowed a lump in his throat and pressed on, starting up the concrete catwalk of the bridge. Too much had happened to him in his life, and too often had he been reminded of the nightmares he had experienced. Of the people he had once known, that were gone and never to be seen again. Of the lonely, frightening nights he had to go through, shaking alone in the dark.

He winced again, the pain in his soul burning him like the fires of hell. He had to find some relief. Some kind of salvation from this misery. Some kind of ending for it all.

Death seemed to be the only option, but how? He was too afraid of pain to think about cutting his wrists or any other form that may cause him physical agony. He’d also tried pills in the past but to no avail. He seemed to have no answer, no release from this miserable life.

The fog horn from a ship passing underneath the bridge caught his attention as he reached it’s peak, he stopped to look over the edge of the bridge as the small tugboat passed by, casting up dark ripples of water in its wake. He stared down at it for what seemed like an eternal moment in time. The realization hit him then.

Jump. A whisper in the wind seemed to beckon him. Jump, Kettu. He gazed down at the water again, contemplating the consequences of the leap. He could be killed on impact, or his back would break, in which case, he would drown. Either way, it would be a few seconds of falling, and then it would all be over.

Do it, Jump! The whisper beckoned him again. How could he lose? This was the perfect opportunity to finally get it all over and done with. He slowly lowered his guitar to the cold concrete and looked over the edge once again. It would be over in a few seconds, he told himself, in a few seconds it would all be over. A lifetime of suffering would be erased in a moment, and all the pain he constantly felt would finally be gone. He raised a leg up over the railing, then the other, holding onto that railing with only his hands, his feet placed on the thin edge of the outer edge of the bridge.

“Hey, um . . .” A voice came from the shadows, Kettu flinched, his heart beating wildly. Someone was here, watching him. He watched as a thin figure of a female materialized from the depths of the shadows, her thick black hair covering most of her pale face, her loose, paint stained clothes hanging off of her thin, yet shapely frame. She looked at Kettu with a pair of piercing blue eyes that held an expression of fear, and something that he had no word for. Kettu felt a bolt of shame rip through his body. The feelings of weakness, inadequacy, and embarrassment left his paralyzed. He instantly looked away, hoping to hide in the darkness of the night.

“Listen, I, uh, you’re not thinking of jumping, are you?” The girl asked, inching closer to Kettu as a gently breeze passed over the two of them. Kettu sighed, closing his eyes and lowering his head.

“Yes.” Kettu said just above a whisper, his knuckles tightening on the railing. The shame he felt was more than he could take, he just wanted to disappear from view. Why did she have to stop and talk to him? Why couldn’t she just have minded her own business and been on her way? The entire situation was as embarrassing as it was irritating.

“Why? Nothing can be that bad.” The girl asked.

“You have no idea.” Kettu kept his glance down at the water below.

“Maybe I don’t, but I don’t to see you jump. I want to help you.”

“Help is defined by the desire to acquire money or monetary gain from giving advice or providing service to others, so what’s your price tag?” Kettu snapped, glaring at the girl through the dark.

“Only a few minutes of your time, there’s a coffee shop nearby, All I want to do is talk.”

“Why bother? What’s the point?”

“Listen,” Said the girl, leaning back on a steel girder, folding her arms, almost defensively in front of her, “I’ll make you a deal. I buy you coffee, even a last meal, we talk, and if you’re still dissatisfied with life, or feel that talking can’t help you, you can come back up here and make the jump.”

The two stared at each other as the wind blew its way through their hair, Kettu looked at the girl, and for a moment, considered just letting go of the railing, but the thought of leaving this girl to deal with the trauma of seeing him die was enough to make him change his mind.

“I’m doing this for the free meal, just so you know.” Kettu said, climbing back over the railing.