How to Save a Life ✓

XIII: In Which She Finds out the Truth

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I close my eyes and smell the salty water from down below. The wind brushes past me and sends my hair in an array of different directions. Traffic is particularly busy today and cars are at a standstill, waiting for the time to pass by. Looking around, some people lower their windows and take photos of the scenery.

I hold on to the railings and slowly walk through the bridge. I rarely made it all the way through, realizing halfway that I have to get home or my mother would punish me. Today however, she got a part time job working as a waitress. It doesn't pay much, and she would use most of it to for alcohol, but extra money is always something. Taking the opportunity that she wouldn't be home for a while, I start walking the 1.6 mile route.

Sometimes, when I'm walking around, I find Noah at different sections of the bridge, carefully looking at the water and the area around him. Unlike the usual smile he wears around me and Aphrodite, he always sports a frown when he's on the bridge. If I'm being honest, it didn't look good on him.

Taking a second to observe the water, I look down at the waves violently crashing the pillars. The sounds of footsteps can be heard and soon enough, a person is standing besides me. Immediately recognizing who it is, a smile grazes my face and I turn towards my friend. Noah has a dazed expression on his face, as if he couldn't believe what he just did.

"I think," he says slowly, debating how to start this conversation, "that I stopped someone from killing himself today."

My eyes widen at his words. I try to decipher the expression on his face but my hair blocks the view of him. Getting annoyed, I take a ponytail and tie my hair into a bun. He's looking at me as well, waiting for me to say something.

"What happened?" I finally say.

"This guy. He looked around my age, maybe a year older. He kept muttering to himself and running his hands through his hair. I walked up to him and we started talking."

"You walked up to a random stranger and started up a conversation?" I interrupt him in disbelief. Then again, I shouldn't be surprised. When we first met, he tackled me to the ground.

He ignores my question and continues speaking, "he kept going on about how he hates his life and how he should end it all. If I wasn't there, he would have jumped. I'm sure of it."

"Where is he now?"

"I talked him down. It took and hour and a half but I knew I succeeded when he took his hands off the railings. I gave him my number and he went home."

We both stay silent for a moment, processing what he just did. He saved a life. I have a feeling that this isn't his first time.

"Is this why you like to go here?"

He pushes the hair out of his eyes and cracks his knuckles, a habit he does when he's debating what to say. "Yeah," is his only response and I take it as my cue to divert the topic slightly.

"I come to forget." I pick up a piece of rusted metal mixed with paint and rub my fingers to turn it into a powder. Dropping it on the floor, I continue. "My mom and I don't have a good relationship. She never wanted children. When my father died, she moved away and started drinking her problems away. It's funny actually. Both of us want to forget the reality, but we're too stuck in the past to actually do it."

It feels great telling someone about my problems, even if it's the surface. For a second, I feel like I actually have someone that I could count on. Someone that actually listens instead of just hearing.

"Everyone wants to forget sometimes. We think that forgetting means not hurting but we only ignore the problem. We're only prolonging our pain." He gives his insight to what I said.

I want to ask how he knows all of this when I remember that he wants to be a counselor. There's a reason why he always goes to group therapy although he doesn't need too. There is no way someone could be so insightful unless they actually experience it for themselves.

When he ran out of fingers to crack, he starts tapping his slender fingers against the metal. It can barely be heard against the cars rushing past, but it doesn't matter. It only made me want to hear him more.

Taking one last breath of air as if preparing for anything, he says the words that I never expected to hear from him.

"My best friend jumped to her death."