Towering Above

Begining of the End

The elevator stopped at fifty and I stepped out. It was higher than I expected. I could still hear the bustling streets of downtown Manhattan calling my name, telling me to think twice. I could still see people walking past, unaware of this stupid man standing on the edge of sanity. I could smell the smells of New York. It's hard to describe. A disproportionate combination of hotdogs, cigarettes, coffee, blood, sweat and tears. The City of Liberty had always looked down upon souls like me, infidels and delinquents who have nothing left to give. Tonight I look down upon the same city, at the people and places that comprise it's beauty.
Every face in Liberty City has a story, a motive to stay alive. For most people, this motive is enough but not for me. My motivation gave up the day I did. The day I stopped believing that I amounted to something. I'm not exactly sure when or where, but I do know why. Until recently, I considered myself a good man, but not anymore.
My story is irrelevant, quite like the outcome of my fall. No one will notice my disappearance until it causes them inconvenience. Some might even enjoy my end. Maybe even many. Maybe all the people I know will enjoy my death. I do not know, nor do I wish to. I'd rather have daisies, puppies and serene beaches on my mind in the final minutes of my life. You might want to know my story but I don't want to tell it for it causes me sorrow. Do not get me wrong, my tale is not one of sadness, it is of repentance and penitence. I am not a bad person at heart, only the things I've done are bad, I cannot change that. I've tried but I just can't. Is it not the deeds of our lives that define us? I guess, in a way you could say, I'm not a good man either.

I walked towards the edge of the appropriately chosen 50th floor and looked down one last time. Goodbye NY. Goodbye Mom and Dad. Goodbye world. Then, I do not know why, but for some reason I looked up at the sky. It was almost sundown. The orange hue of day succumbed to the dark of night. I could almost see the early stars. The sky filled with the flight of birds, a passing airplane and boots. Boots? No, not just boots, a pair of legs too. Wait, just legs? Yes, they were hanging down from the floor above. No no, a person, a whole, fully functional, mentally capable, sentient person was sitting on the edge of the 51st floor. Wearing boots of course.
For the first time in a long while, I was nervous. My plan was ruined. This person could not not witness my fall. Not because he cannot or is incapable, but because I do not want him to. It is scarring to see death, I for one know this well. All too well. I must talk to him, tell him to leave. He does not want to see this.

"Sir?", I said.

"Who are you? Leave me alone! "… he replied sharply.

"I want you to leave please," I said "It's for your own good."

"Leave? I'm going nowhere but down" came the voice.

"Yes of course. Though, the elevator is particularly slow today."

"Elevator? I'm still not going anywhere." He said stubbornly.

"You don't understand. I'm going to jump off the building and end my life…" I said.

"So am I." Said the man on 51.

"What?"

Well, this was quite the coincidence.

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