- 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗦: ᴋ. ᴏᴜᴍᴀ - sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴀᴜ

[̲̅2 . 1

Tears threatened to leak out of your eyes while you took a quick sprint forward, your hand harshly gripped the railing; your fingers quickly started to pain and create small marks. "Fuck! N-No!" you stuttered, staring down in a search for his body.

You caught sight of his body.

     His hands gripped the hood over his eyes, it was unclear what his motives were. Is he trying to hide his identity, even until death? Is he trying to hide his fear? Is he attempting to block out the grips of reality pulling him to the floor by the second?

     His motives were unclear to you, but honestly, your mind didn't put much thought into it. The only thing that flew through your brain is why. Why did he jump? Why can't he just speak to you?

     Why couldn't things just go according to plan?

     Without command, your hand reached out to him in a sorry attempt to catch him. He was way too far to ever be caught, but your brain didn't want to process that heartbreaking fact.

You watched as his body seemed to fall in slow motion. His knees bent slightly up, and his body slowly curled into a ball as if trying to reassure himself. His hoodie moved with the wind—the black gym shorts he was wearing flapping in the wind as well.

His body slowly continued to drift to the floor, before a loud slam echoed through the air.

You couldn't take your eyes off of the body.

It was so... gruesome. Blood was splattered all around his body—his limbs uncomfortably bent in unnatural ways that nobody should ever attempt. The blood from the first splatter seemed like it was left uncontrollably by a paintbrush, with the paint-based red and everywhere around him.

The hood stayed over his head—by some miracle. His body was still unidentifiable from your distance with his figure seeming to just be a small blur of black. The only thing distinct you can make out related to his identity was the skin tone of his legs, which were revealed past his knee caps due to his black gym shorts. Each leg, though, had a dark, bloodied liquid slowly leaking off of it. One leg—his left—was bent unnaturally under him, which is a sight you've never wanted to see.

     Before he had made contact with the grey concrete, his body did a small roll from the contact, and it was what flipped him onto his face. If you watched closer back there, you probably could've gotten sight of his face.

     Dammit.

Naturally, you slowly began to pant while staring at the body. Your eyes began to water, due to the fact of how long you've had them open, and the sight ahead of you. You'd never wish death upon someone, and seeing death in person is absolutely horrible. One of your hands—your dominant one—reached up to your face, slowly beginning to shield your eyes from the sight ahead of you.

     Each breath you took became uncontrollable. Panic slowly crept its way up from your throat, which turned into yet another blood-curdling scream.

     You lost your footing and fell backward onto your bottom. "What the hell just happened!?" You panted out, still shielding your eyes. "Shit, shit, shit! This isn't funny! Stop!"

     Sobs choked through your mouth, snot coming out from your nose a bit. "It's all a dream. It's all a dream. It's all a fucking dream!" you screamed, reaching up to grip your hair and moving your knees closer to your torso. "He's— He's not fucking dead! It's okay!" You began to manically laugh, tightening your grip on your hair.