Chapter 1

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Trigger warning: This story contains depictions of mental health issues such as suicide, depression, and anxiety. Please read with caution. 


"She's the kind of beautiful that makes you rethink every single time you thought you saw a beautiful woman - because this one is turning all the heads, stealing everyone's glances and everyone's breaths, seemingly without even being aware of it."


Here I am. Again.

I didn't think it'd happen this soon, to be honest. But I made my choice, and now I have to stick to it. I'm too far gone, the darkness has already swallowed me whole, embracing me in its fog.

The wind is howling, the humid air whipping against my face as I hold on to the rail behind me. I swear, I try to think of a reason not to do it, but I honestly can't find one.

I've thought it through. It's not a decision I made lightly, but there just doesn't seem to be any other way.

Life just happened. And along with its cruel fate came the void, the sinking feeling that no matter what I do, I'll just end up turning another page in the book of ferocity.

To be fair, this sight in front of me, the water crashing against the rocks on the shore, the way the moon reflects on the surface, it almost makes me rethink my decision. Almost.

But I feel stuck. Stuck in my dull, pathetic life. Stuck in the never-ending rotation of hating myself and then fighting to stay sane. It's tiring, and I'm all out of energy to keep going, darkness filling the vacancy in my sanity.

And so I step on the ledge in front of me, my hands still gripping the cold metal of the rail behind my back. It's an unusually frosty night for this time of year, and it feels like a sign. A sign that it's time, that I should get it over with and break out of this cycle of hell. I know I should be nervous about the prospect of ending my life in a matter of minutes, but my heart has felt nothing for a while now. Pain and guilt have taken over its existence.

The demons are screaming at me. With claws scraping against my skin, their hushed voice lure me closer to the edge, closer to my imminent death.

As I look down, the tip of my shoes now slightly over the ledge, I try to understand how I ended up here. Death, betrayal, murder... The reasons linger in my mind as I estimate the distance to the rocks in the water below me, and it's like the thoughts fuel my resolve.

It's at least sixty feet - that should be enough to give me quite an amount of internal bleeding when I crash on the rocks in the water. I have to find the right spot, though. Really wouldn't want to end up like one of those vegetables in the ICU; I always pitied them.

I position myself perfectly. With the wind coming from west, I should land exactly on the giant rock beneath me.

"This is it."

I could just jump now.

"Fuck..." my voice is shaky with how cold it has gotten. Or maybe it's the prospect of my impending death - I'm not too sure, honestly.

Just jump, Lincoln.

And I'm about to actually do it, my feet dragging to the edge of the platform, when I hear the roaring of a motorcycle coming my way. The sound startles me and I almost fall off the ledge accidentally — for some godforsaken reason, though, I'm holding onto the rail. I mean, it's not like I was just about to end my pathetic life on purpose, right?

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