The Citizen Soldier (DNF)

1) A Bittersweet End

Trigger Warning: This entire chapter deals with heavy topics such as suicidal ideation.

*Clay POV*

Dear Mrs. Denison,

There has never been anything for me here on this earth, my so-called friends made sure that I knew that and that I was reminded every day. So this is the reason that I am writing this, I guess. If you were here you would be telling me to stop this, just like last time. But this time you aren't here, and you haven't been here in a long, long time.

I wish that you didn't have to go overseas and have this letter found for you, your son dead. I wish that this could have happened differently. But I can't stay. If I stay, it'll only hurt worse and then what? What is there? I am not welcomed in my new home, or this life that I thought would be better.

I want to say that this isn't your fault in the slightest, if anything you and Christina have kept me going for so long. The worst thing is that I don't even know if you're dead, or will be soon. Christina couldn't stand me anymore and she moved into her friend's house, I think his name is James? I can't be sure.

She's safe there, and she's been living there for the past month now. I appreciate it because she didn't have to see me coming home. That way she didn't have to hear me crying and wailing in vain. That way she didn't even have to acknowledge my existence except for that one time that we bumped into each other at the Shell gas station.

This way she can be happy, and I can be happy.

There will always be time that you need to adjust to my loss, but I'm running out of it now. There is nothing for me. I love you, mom.

Deepest regards,
Clay Denison

Clay's letter was thought through and to the point. With his mother at war, his sister pretending that he didn't exist, and his 'friends' that had hurt him so many times for being Pansexual, the combination of it was far too much. He left the letter on the dining room table, where it would easily be seen after his body was found.

He was done with the bullshit. He was done with it all. He was ready for his bittersweet ending.

He put on his favorite hoodie that smelled of pine and lavender, his green checkered vans, and walked out into the brisk night, admiring the way that the stars shone. He knew that he had a good hour long walk ahead of him.

As he walked he thought through thoughts, no cars or people or anything to distract him as he did so. He thought thoughts such as 'is twenty years a long time, or is it barely a blink of the eye?'

He thought thoughts that were scathing, he thought thoughts that were comforting, and he thought thoughts that were confused. 'I wonder what's waiting on the other side?'

Eventually even his thoughts silenced as he walked.

Taking a few deep breaths, he approached the bridge, the faint yellow light flickering from the bent streetlight. The ground was covered in brown dirt, pebbles that were easy to slip on if one wasn't careful of where they happened to step. Everywhere he could see the trees of the forest surrounding him, and he could hear a wolf's howl and sorrowful cry to the moon, which looked like a crescent and was casting a faint, pale white glow around the scene.

The rushing of the river was fast, but not too loud. It didn't roar like some rivers, and yet it didn't flow silently either. The owls in the trees hooted curiously at why this boy would be out in these woods so late. Clay decided to walk through the spongey, dewy grass and was met with the crisp sharp smell of dying grass almost instantly. The fall time caused the trees to look scraggly and scary, most leaves already fallen off by this time. The crickets could be heard chatting away the night with their friends.

Clay stepped on something that made a considerably loud crunching noise and lifted his foot to see what had fallen underneath it. Delicately, he lifted a half-destroyed leaf that was left alone in the field. He spun it in between his right pointer finger and his thumb and the structure failed, the leaf crumbling; small bits floated down to meet the field floor.

Once again looking at the sky, he saw the stars shining and the moon protecting them, and he made up his mind. He took a tentative step onto the rusted old bridge that had been there since the beginning of time.

He knew that nobody ever came down here if they could help it because it wasn't worth the walk nor the gas money. The city hadn't even bothered to repave the roads, restore the benches or replace the streetlight, though the streetlight still did use valuable city power. It was a safe space, one that was known for its summer beauty and isolation in the family. It was where Clay's own father had taken his life and now his son was soon to follow in his footsteps.

Clay almost felt sick as he stepped onto the unstable rusted rails. The river was rushing underneath him, powerful, cold, uncaring, and deadly. The swiftness of the river was something that would certainly ensure his quick death. A simple decision, a single step and it would be over in a few heartbeats of cold fire and warm ice. He calmed his nerves down, knowing that he wouldn't have to carry the guilt and misery on his soul soon, the burden of emotion.

Fear, uncertainty, and adrenaline suddenly ruled over his body as his breath choked, still gazing at the inky black, foaming, swirling water rushing by beneath him. It's like there was some sort of creature beneath he surface, and it struck terror into Clay's heart. What was lurking below? He couldn't see.

*???*

The boy got back to his usual spot and almost got ready to sleep when he saw movement on the ledge of that bridge. It wasn't a usual hour for these poor souls to come by, it only being about 10 PM. They normally came by at later times, and this poor person was standing there already, staring down into the dark abyss that was that wretched river.

He got out of his van, approached slowly and cautiously as to not startle the other. He knew hat he would probably look quite threatening under the dull and flickering light of that accursed street lamp.

"Don't do it, you'll regret it immediately." The person on the bridge turned their head to meet a boy with brown hair, pale skin, and a navy blue hoodie staring right back.