Nomad's Bite Size Shorts

On the Edge

Looking up at the night sky, it is a full moon. The cold wind is howling, strong enough to make your clothes flutter but too weak to make your move. You look down at your legs, dangling on the ledge of a bridge. Then you can see a dark abyss lurking below.

Is this it?

Your final moments.

You try to push yourself for the 15th time, but your instincts pull you back again, forcing you to wait for the next time you are ready. You pull up your sleeves again, a series of cuts on arms—a punishment you give yourself every time you mess up. By the way, it looks, you have made a lot.

The blood rushes to your legs, making your legs feel heavier—time to try again; your confidence this time compels you to try but stopped again.

Maybe five more minutes.

The view isn't that bad.

I promise just five more minutes.

Then, I'll leave this cruel life.

My-

A hand grabs onto your arm.

"Please don't do it." A female voice begs you from behind.

You turn your head. A woman is desperately trying to hold your arm. Her grip isn't strong enough to physically stop you, but it is enough emotionally.

"You can get down now. Just talk to me."

You move your legs back to safety, making it stand on solid ground, away from the darkness below. She pulls you down and makes you sit on the sidewalk.

"What's wrong? You can tell me."

Do I trust her?

I just met her

"I am.... I just....." with those words, your eyes slowly water. Tiny droplets turn into rivers.

You cling on to her shoulders as she holds on to you tightly. Her hands are rubbing your back, slowly comforting you.

"I can't... I can't anymore...."

"It's okay. It's okay, take your time."

You continue sobbing. Your tears are running down your cheeks onto her shoulder, wetting her clothes.

"I can't. I don't want to do this anymore....."

"Tell me what's wrong."

"I don't know. I have friends. My family loves me. I'm doing well at school. I visit my doctor regularly. I'm going to therapy. I just don't know." You pull back from her, eyes still red.

"It's okay to know now right now. What matters right now is that you are safe." Both of her hands hold on to yours.

It is comforting. The soft, gently feeling is now holding on to you tightly to make sure you don't do anything rash.

"Tell me what happened today?"

"I left my dorm..... then I went to school. Ugh, I can't remember." You try your hardest to recollect the events that transpire today.

"Classes...I attended my classes. I met my friends...." You pause for a second, trying to question yourself

Are they my friends?

I mean, I only meet them at school.

We only talk about homework and projects.

If we only talk about school, are they really my friends?