Fallen

2. My Quilt

       I feel fragile and afraid, but also confused. The cement is cool beneath my body from the constant spray of the river below, it sends shivers down my spine that make this situation a harsh reality. I turn to face the mysterious hand that had yanked me down, and even in the dark his striking blue eyes could not be hidden, like jewels glittering in the sun.

      That face was the last one I thought to see in this moment, but his normally charismatic smile and matching gleam in his eyes was replaced by a shocked downward grimace and his eyes clouded with concern and worry. I was awestruck at his appearance and his reaction, but more than that embarrassed to see the shame that quickly came into his eyes. I allow myself to cry, but he wraps his arms around me, softer and gentler than I imagined. As I continue to cry into his arms, I leave his olive colored sweater wet from my ever-flowing tears. He presses back solidly, as to remind me he is there.

      We sit in silence, the only noises breaking the peace was the crash of the waves beneath us and my quiet whimpers. As he stands up, I take that as my cue to get up as well, carefully, he puts his arm on the small of my back and guides me to the curb of the pathway. Ironically, not the edge I imagined stepping off from tonight.

     My eyes are blurry from my cowardly tears, and the burning sensation takes over my body; but despite that, I can tell that he is leading me to his car which is parked right next to the sign that leads to our little town. I don't have any feelings now, pain wipes away those for me; but honestly, I don't care where we are going. We walk in silence, he waits until we reach his car to turn to me,  a constant frown and matching squeezed facials. His lips part and words seep out; I don't hear a word of it. He repeats his question again lightly, his eyes showing fear, worry, and shame all at once.

"I should take you home tonight, you can get in the passenger seat. I can help you if you want?", he stutters.

     He scans my face for answers, but like feelings, pain and sadness leave my face blank. He takes my silence as a yes.  His hand grazes the handle, then he pulls it open, I slide in slowly. As he shuts the door behind me, I am met with complete emptiness as I stare into the grim space ahead of me.

     Suddenly, I feel angry, one of the only feelings that sadness overlooks on occasion. Who was he to stop me from death?  Feelings make me tired, and once again my blank face washes over me in a tidal pool of icy nothingness. My mind filled with the tired weave of depression, a quilt of black fabric with sporadic patches of rainbows and crazy patterns, but mostly black. An unpredictable blanket, without rules or reason for the madness. He enters the car with a deep sigh, one that he has been holding since the moment he wrapped his fingers around my wrist, and then he too stares into the endless sky ahead.

"I told my dad I had baseball late tonight, and that I was going to spend the night at a friend's house, he lives just out of town, but...", he stops mid-sentence, still staring ahead, not wanting to look me in the face.

"I am not going to leave you", he continues, "not after this".

Again, who was he to order me around?

"Where is your house?", he lightly questions.

    I point weakly in the direction, I really don't want him to bring me back to my hell. My mom isn't home, work keeps her tied up, this time it's a trip to D.C. for a client, next time it will be Los Angeles for a corporate meeting or Boston for a company-wide check-in. I don't have any siblings, so most of the time I am alone, with nothing but my own voice to keep me company, but tonight is different. 

 At this point, I have come to terms with the fact that I will not be alone tonight, and that now, he wouldn't just let me get out of the car as he stands there and watches me jump to my death.