20 ○ shawn

00

New York, 11:55 pm

December 31, 2014

a reason: fireworks.

Seven stories up, Shawn stood on the edge of the abandoned building's roof, gazing down at the ground. His heart was pounding intensely like drums, almost out of his chest, and despite the fresh snow falling from the sky, and the lack of coverage he wore for the weather (he was just wearing some jeans and a plain black t-shirt), he felt hot and was even on the verge of sweating.

Shawn had snuck out of his family's annual New Year's party a while ago, and he knew that his mother was probably trying to find him at the moment. But Shawn also knew that his mother wasn't going to find him where she would want to.

Not when he finally jumps.

Shawn didn't want to stay at the party any longer. A minute more, he would probably explode. He didn't like the sight of people laughing and smiling while he had to fake a smile or laugh whenever someone started a conversation with him. He had to escape that party as soon as possible, so he fled and ended up going to an abandoned building he noticed a long time ago. He marked the building, it would be an important spot to him - it was where he was going to finally, officially escape.

When he saw everyone at the New Year's party happy and filled with glee, it made him even more depressed than he already was. He thought it wasn't fair, how everyone but him could be so joyful and enjoy life the way they 'should be' doing. It wasn't fair to him, how everyone was going to celebrate the upcoming year just minutes away, whereas he was standing at the edge of the building, ready to jump and end it all.

Despite Shawn's depression, he never had the guts to pick up a blade and drag it across his wrists. Well, he never continued to cut ever since his very first time, just a year ago. It hurt when he did it, and a thing about Shawn is that he doesn't enjoy feeling pain.

Another winter breeze blew, and goose bumps rose on Shawn's arm, but he didn't even notice it. Shawn inhaled deeply, his nose crinkling when he felt the cold air sting. It annoyed him. Even these little, minor things triggered Shawn to hate life more than he already did. He wanted to end it all so badly, but he had doubts, and he was afraid to jump.

His doubts weren't for the sake of wanting to live just a little bit (that would be way out of the equation), but because Shawn didn't want to feel any pain when he finally jumps, and he certainly doesn't want to end up with just broken bones. He wanted to be over once he makes impact with the ground, not a survivor. He went there for one thing, and one thing only - the last thing he will ever want and could ever want.

"Just jump," Shawn whispered to himself, shutting his eyes close, thinking it was that easy. He still imagined himself surviving the jump, and he imagined his body lying on the sidewalk in unbearable pain, every bone under his skin broken. He shivered in disgust.

Shawn took a piece of his black t-shirt and twirled it around his pointer finger, like how a little child would do when he or she was nervous, and he fluttered open his eyes, taking another glance down. I'm so...high up! Maybe I shouldn't jump down right now. Maybe I should have a running start - so I could just...do it!

Shawn nodded briskly to himself, walking backwards until he was metres away from the ending point of the building's roof. He swallowed and took an unnecessary nod, his eyes fixed at the other brick building in front of the abandoned building. He planned to keep staring at that other brick building as a target, until all he saw was darkness.

"One," I'm going to do it, "Two," I'll finally be gone, "Three!" And off Shawn went, running (more like jogging) towards the edge of the seven-story abandoned building. It was only just a few more minutes until a new year, but nothing would change. Everyone would still be happier than he would.