Summer p.o.v.
17. I was finally 17. Did I like it? My parents hated me. I hadn't friends to celebrate with. Im done with life. I'm not needed. I'm done trying to be happy in the life I live in. In 20 I wrote my final words to my parents who probably don't even care and planned my last few moments.
The bridge on the edge of maple street. I used to go there as a kid and play and get in trouble for trying to jump off. I could finally jump. Be free from this world. 17 forever.
Sam p.o.v.
"Get off me!" I screamed as two idiots in the pub fighting were thrown onto me. But sure enough they threw theirselves right back on top of me again. That's it. I slammed my beer bottle on the counter, fizz flowing out the top, and threw a punch at the first idiot I could get my hands on.
"You three, get out of my pub!" The owner screamed at the three of us.
I threw up my hands in a dramatic way and tried to walk out of the dark room into the breezy air. I was slightly tipsy so I didn't know if that effected my thoughts but I felt the urge to do something. What if I kill myself? I'm not that important, nobody will know I was ever gone.
The bridge off of maple street.
