'01:00 AM' Kenya's digital clock read. One o'clock in central London on a Wednesday meant sleep for working people, but not for Kenya. Black combats with a black hoody, black high tops with black gloves. The usual attire for this vigilante. Tonight was suicide watch; Wednesday was prolific for people ready to end their lives.
Kenya's mother was a midwife and his father was a fireman. He learnt to help without question and his day job, as a salesman was not in that field. So, he worked overtime to nourish his soul.
He climbed down his fire escape and into the shadows of the city streets making his way to tower bridge. Free running, trail climbing and leaps of faith to his destination. Landmarks were home to the lonely and although it was in sight to many it was out of touch to society. Kenya noticed a man perched on the edge of the bridge staring into the water. He climbed up close and sat beside the young man.
"Hey, rough day?" Kenya asked.
"Aye want it to go away," the man trembled.
"What do you want to go away, mate? I can help?" He offered his hand.
"No, no dis is different ya can't help me." The young man stressed.
"Ok, ok. What's your name? We can talk... Just talk."
"Ay me names Conlan... Aye want it to go away," his eyes widened like the full moon and he jittered the words from his mouth forcefully.
"Conlan, my names Kenya," he removed his hood. "Tell me, what needs to stop? I will try and help."
"Di... Di travellers dey are coming and di Banshee warned me... Dey been here since aye was little." Conlan waved his arms around trying to explain.
"The Travellers? The Banshee? I don't understand." Kenya pleaded.
"Aye... aye sorry Kenya," Conlan loosened his body and slipped from the barrier into the water. Colliding into an uncertain death.
"No!" Kenya dived in after Conlan without second guessing his fate.
The cold air pressured his face and pierced his eyes, forcing them close. The surface of the water became greater in impact from the tower bridges height. Unconsciousness greeted Kenya once he submerged into the dark waters. The novice vigilante was lucky to miss deaths calling as he floated on the bank of the river. The same could not be said for the young man named Conlan, whose body could not be seen.
Kenya awoke to cold air pressing on his wet clothes. Regurgitating the water of his failed attempt to save a life. He dragged his sore body into the shadows back to his apartment. He thought to himself some people can't be saved. Lost is a part of life. Failure is part of the journey on the path to greatness.
'08:00 AM' the alarm that Kenya dreaded to hear. Another day in the office, but another night that awaits to chase greatness.