18 December
21:00
Is this how I go? How everything ends?
It's all a cliché. From the roof I'm standing on, to the music I'm listening to, 'Boulevard of broken dreams' by Green Day. The only thing that isn't a cliché is the fact that i'm not on the edge of the roof. No. I'm in the center. Standing on the edge is to risky. there's to big a risk of me backing out and living a life I'm too tired to live. I'm done living for others. Now, I die for me.
I try to clear all thoughts but one remains stubborn and unyielding. "How did I get here?" It echoes in my head and for seconds becomes my entire existence. One thought. "How did I get here?" This time I scream it with emotions ranging from relief to anger to sadness. The response I get? The continuation of the sound of rushing traffic emanating from the street below. Each driver and pedestrian completely oblivious to my existence, or rather end of existence.
How much longer can I stand here? The song has repeated four times already. Maybe more, I lost count. Years of listening to this song and only now do I really relate to the theme of extreme loneliness. Standing here for about fifteen minutes, I'm starting to regret not doing this during a warmer month. I couldn't do it earlier, in all honesty, I just wasn't ready and later is impossible because if I have to spend one more day still breathing... Well I don't want to think about that.
Enough! Enough procrastinating. It has to be done.
I straighten up, turn up the volume of the music until it's roaring in my ears so loud that I can't think. I get a running start to the edge where, hopefully, I'm too fast to stop. There is no stopping. The wind is blowing salty air from the sea in my face, I close my eyes against the wind and continue running. It feels like it's happening in slow motion, every step taking only seconds but in my mind minutes. Suddenly I reach the edge and it feels like everything solid has just crumbled beneath my feet. For a moment I'm flying and feel invulnerable. That moment doesn't last long and my life flashes before my eyes.
One thought:"How did I get here?"
YOU ARE READING
Falling Disguised As Flying
Teen FictionI hate everything about my life. Everything only got worse about two years ago when a heartbreaking event left me heartless. Sounds like a clichè? It isn't a typically story. My name is Raven Parks. This is my story.
