Heavy Dirty Soul

O N E

I leave my house to take a walk after getting the third rejection.

At this point I'm tired of hearing my mother tell me that everything would be okay, when it really wouldn't be. I only applied to five universities, and three of them sent me the same response. All that's left is my first choice and my last choice. And well, if I couldn't get accepted to all the ones in between, I'm pretty sure my chances of getting into my first choice are slim.

I tuck my hands into the pocket of my dark jeans as I walk along the dark road. I didn't live in the nicest of neighborhoods, and well, some parts of my hometown can get a little sketchy at night. But I don't constantly scan my surroundings like I usually do, because all I can think about at the moment is that stupid letter.

It's a relatively quiet night. There aren't many cars going up and down the roads. The sidewalks are lonely, with the occasional person or group of people exiting the little restaurants and the stores that line both sides of street.

I almost pass McDonalds, but once I smell the fries, my mouth waters and my stomach begins to crave the very food that always made me feel better. I walk inside and see that it's practically empty, which is of course to be expected.

Who'd be spending a friday night at a crappy neighborhood McDonalds?

My phone buzzes in my pocket and when I pull it out, I see that I got a text from my best friend Jessie.

Hey! Guess what?

I sigh, starting to feel even worse. I'm pretty sure that he had gotten accepted to UC San Diego, just like he had gotten into Santa Barbara and Riverside. And as much as I want to be happy for him I can't. It hurt too much to see someone, who didn't even work half as hard as I did, get into almost every school he applied to.

Maybe that makes me a shitty friend.

Oh well.

I slip my phone back in my pocket and step up to the counter when my fries are ready.

I continue to walk, eating my fries, as I think of only one place I want to be.

Moorepark Bridge.

Cars pass by more frequently as I get closer to the bridge over the river. I toss my trash into a nearby can and ignore the vibrations from my phone. It's probably just another text from my mom.

From a distance I can see that there's a girl already there, her long brown hair flowing in the brisk and gentle breeze as she looks over the bridge.

I can't see her face, but from the looks of her small frame, and the way she fills out her worn denim jeans and pink cropped sweater, I'd say she's about my age.

My phone buzzes again for the fifth time and I reach for my phone, feeling annoyed. This time when I look at the screen, I see it's a text from my little sister Lindsey.

Mom's worried. She wants to know where you are when you'll be back. Please respond she's driving me nuts.

I groan and quickly type a response.

I'll be back before curfew. Tell mom she needs to chill out.

I don't mention where I'm going since I don't want my mother to think I'm suicidal or some dumb shit like that. Yes, I'm upset. I'm pissed and scared and disappointed. But I'm not going to the bridge to jump off the side of it. I just want to go to there because it was my thinking place. I don't know what it is, but looking over that bridge and seeing the water flow by in small currents always makes me feel better.

And despite everything, it's still a beautiful night. The sky is clearer, since the recent rain washed away most of the city smog, and the moon seems brighter.

My phone buzzes in my palm and I see the most recent text from Lindsey.

You're going to the bridge aren't you? Leo, please don't do anything stupid.

I roll my eyes and type back.

I won't. Don't tell mom. I know she'll just swoop by and bug me.

When I look back up I see that the same girl is sitting on the edge of bridge railing, with her head hanging low.

My heart lurches in my chest as my feet come to a screeching halt. And panic begins to set in as my gut tells me that this girl was about to throw herself off the edge.