Soul Jumper

Part 1

Bike riding. A relaxing yet thrilling activity, cornering the mind and the body. If you think about it, everything requires mind and body. Even little things. Sleeping. Eating.

My name is Amelia Thompson. I like to consider myself a successful person, on account of my doctorate's degree in human psychology. Its been over a month now, me having this title officially. I work at an office in San Francisco, California. I strive to own an office of my own, someday.

My interaction with people can be considered a little more intimate than average. It is my job, after all. Assuring and understanding Dr. Thompson. However, I have only dealt with minor cases, so far. I know no case should be classified as 'minor'. But there isn't much hardship in the tendency to forget to feed a pet, or struggle to fall asleep. Minor.

I may sound cold hearted, but I'm simply a little bored.

I ride through the narrow streets, breathing in crisp air. My chestnut hair flows with the wind, and my jacket whips wildly. I was going back home, to my cramped apartment where I live alone. It may seem lonely, but when you're surrounded by work, the distraction serves the role of a partner.

I pass by the small shops and businesses, realizing I had no food at home. I park my bike beside a lampost, and step inside a warm grocery store. Grabbing a metal basket, I figure out what to buy. The simpler the better, I think to myself. Cooking is not my strong suit.

I settle for a frozen dinner. Unhealthy, I know.

I place the cold package on the conveyer belt of an empty station. The employee, a young woman with very blue eyes smiles. "Is that all for today?"

I nod and smile in return. I hand her my debit, and as she works the machine, I glance out the shop's windows. A stunning view of the Golden Gate Bridge. At sunset it lights up, and illuminates the city. Wait.

I have to squint to make sure. Is that, a person? A tall man stands at the edge of the bridge, looking down into the water with utmost sureness. No one should be standing where he was standing. No....

I drop the metal basket, causing a loud crash. The cashier's head snaps up, startled. "Are you alright, ma'am?" She asks. I turn to her with wide eyes. Stumbling backwards, I stutter, "No time, uh, I'm so sorry - gotta go!" Before sprinting.

Bursting through the doors, I feel the air against my face once again, but this time it's icy, and it bites. "No! Wait!" I cry pointlessly, for I was still so far away. The joggers glance at me, half confused, half concerned. I barrel into the street without realizing, the sound of honking cars ringing in my ears. It doesn't matter.

The run inclines as I bolt up the bridge, past the dog-walkers and strollers. The man continues to stare at the murky water, clenching his fists and whispering things I was too far to hear. Before I realize it I'm catapulting over the side of the path, walking towards him slowly.

He was young, late 20s, maybe. He had dark short hair, and a sweater on. He seemed to be in a trance, since he turned in suprise only when I grabbed his arm forcefully. "Alright. This isn't happening." I tell him. He looks at me for a moment, then turns back to the water, not struggling. "Let go." He states quietly.

"No way. Come with me, alright?" I gently usher him over the side, back onto the path. "I'm fine, okay? I need to be alone, to channel." He insists. "Channel what, exactly?" I ask, a frown forming on my face. He shrugs. "The other side."

I still didn't understand. He realizes, because he says, "The other side? Of the water?" He acts as if it were obvious. I just shake my head and tighten my grip on his arm. "Come on. We have to talk."

He follows. "We don't have much time, you know." He looks down at me with brown eyes. I just hoped he was crazy.