Synopsis:
The breeze of a hot summer evening brushes his cheek with a gentle touch. His hair swayed to the rhythm of the wind, leaving behind a trail of bandages loosing up from his neck. Most people would find it calming, pleasing or any other good feelings but he just felt empty, dread and despair. (TW: Suicide Attempt)
XXX
The breeze of a hot summer evening brushes his cheek with a gentle touch. His hair swayed to the rhythm of the wind, leaving behind a trail of bandages loosing up from his neck. Most people would find it calming, pleasing or any other good feelings but he just felt empty, dread and despair. The city below him look so small considering the fact he's on the roof of a mafia's headquarters. Looking at people running their lives as if they're ants, whom he would crush given the chance. However, a sense of dread replaces his morbid thoughts and a twinge of jealousy somehow bloomed in his guts. He chuckled, dark and gloom. It feels as if something is choking him.
People down there, in a way, have something to live for. Unlike him, a living shell counting his days, a hollow being trying to shorten whatever force that grants him another day of living in this forsaken world. He scoots a bit closer to the edge. His feet now dangling over the high rise building.
What would he feel when he fall from here? The feeling of falling to your own death may sound disturbing for most people but the thought sounds inviting enough for him. He looked down, imagining himself sprawling on the cement floor. Blood splattered across the pavement, the sound of despair and grief among those who knew him, the panic voice of passerbys, the vague sound of ambulance and probably the sound of his hot-headed partner yelling at him for being such an idiot.
He stood up from where he seated and walked, not towards the safety of railings but tracing his feet across the lines on the edges of the roof. His hands spread open to balance himself as he walked along, silently counting the minutes of his life until his feet somehow finally giving up to the temptation and lurched his body towards imminent death. To add to that, he purposely closed his eyes. He use his instinct alone to predict the length and just enough turned to the corner and continued walking.
He might hope for nature to take him away with a sudden gust of wind to catch him off balance. His heart race at the thought. He can feel adrenaline racing through his system, readying himself to fight or flight mode to bring him back to safety.
How ironic.
His body tried so hard to keep him alive but this numb feeling in his mind somehow had a different idea. His mind who thinks that dying is a good idea. He looked forward and saw the distant view of the sea coloured in orange hue with the sun slowly sets into the horizon. Again, he looked down towards the humans below him. Most of them wearing worksuits and formal attires, likely going back home for the day.
He breathed out a sigh. The feeling of emptiness somehow isn't helping him either. He read somewhere that people who tried to commit suicide would often have second thoughts, life flashing before them, trails of regret towards people they're gonna leave. They said at the mere seconds before death, they would find a reason to live yet another day and back away from death's door. Hoping for a fresh start.
Ridiculous, he would say. The thought never seem to come to him. A reason to live. He wanted it. He desires it but somehow the reason seemed too far fetched that he can't even see the glimpse of it. Why is it people struggle to live in the midst of disaster? Why is it people longing for another day when he himself desperately wished to give it away? What is it people find in this world to see the joy of being alive? He didn't understand and so does people around him. They might think it's weird, a 16 year old, barely passed his childhood years, longing for the embrace of death. Every failed attempts somehow fuels his desire even more and it cause quite the headache towards people around him. The bandages on his arms now hanging loose due to the wind, revealing bruises and self inflicted marks in it's wake.
To be honest, even when he do like hanging at death's door, he didn't really like the pain. He virtually counted the scars he inflicted on his body. How many was it? 20? 30? Or maybe more? But due to his current job, he never truly remembered the scars, whether he made it, or his enemies? He just want to feel something. Even if it's pain, he'll take it.
At one point, his partner confiscated all his knife and he only been given a gun, which not really the best item to give to a suicidal maniac but he do need to protect himself due to his current circumstances. Somehow, he did follow the rules of only using it to someone other than himself, which somehow awaken his desire to repeatedly wasting bullets to shoot at dead enemies, thinking they're lucky that they get to die so early which ultimately cause his partner to kick the gun out of his grasp several times during mission.
He took a deep breath and continued walking. Due to the fact he's on the roof of a 50 storey building, no one actually see him. He's glad because he don't wanna cause a commotion that certainly gonna kill his mood.
An image of a rope snaking it's way towards his neck, wrapping itself and tied into a noose. It feels odd but somehow his feet move towards it. He can feels his breath slowly taking him away and he welcomed it with opened arms. The peace he felt as if a mother was singing a lullaby, cooing him to come closer while a grim reaper patiently waiting by the door. Darkness follow him and he soon felt as if his vision distorted and he could only make out the blurry image of the distant sea.
Is this going to be the end?
As he was walking, he felt a hand reached out towards his and he looked at the intruder invading his thoughts. That's when he realized, his foot were mere millimeters from the edge while his other already stepped outside the bounds and literally hanging.
"What are you doing?" The intruder voice out. An annoyed look plastered across his face. He looked at the boy. It's his partner. Despite being the same age, the other boy is smaller compared to him yet physically more fit. To be fair, he's not suicidal like him. Eating unhealthy stuff or drinking weird meds. In fact, he is quite the opposite which kinda annoyed him because he will start pestering him to eat healthily and exercising.
"I'm just trying to enjoy the evening sky. Why?"
The boy looked at him. His blue eyes shine bright, contrast to the orange scenery surrounding them but his red hair somehow complement the evening sky. Rage can be seen reflected on those ocean eyes as his grip around his hand tighten. Amidst of all that, he can see a tinge of worry lace under it. He mouth,"Lies, you're clearly trying to kill yourself back there."
"And what would you do if I did?" He glared at him with the intent to provoke the smaller man.
"I'll stop you."
With that, he pulled him back to safety....
XXX
"How long are you going to do this?"
"As long as I'm here so don't go trying to die on me because I'll make sure you can't."
He sigh. That's the one thing he dislike about him. He probably won't be getting this sweet embrace of death anytime soon. Oh well, he'll try to enjoy it while it last. Maybe he'll find the answer he was looking for.
