Surviving the Harrison Boys (Re-write)

twenty-nine // bad decisions (hunter's pov)

It was dark, and the tall trees looked like my inner demons all reaching down to grab me and take any bit of happiness I had left. I really didn't think I had any.

I didn't know where I was, but I made it all the way to a bridge. I recognized it from the time I was doing research about Dallas before I got here. The Margaret Hunt Hill Bridge.

I didn't realize how worn out my legs were until I collapsed on the bridge. My chest felt tight, I was struggling to breathe. My legs and feet ached, and my head was pounding from all the crying. My throat was so dry, I was just uncomfortable all over.

I stared down at the river below the bridge. The water was rushing wildly, almost the same way my emotions were. I stood and forced my leg over the railing, then the other one. I stood on a small ledge and linked my arms through the metal bars behind me. It looked so tempting. The rushing water. The large rocks that were probably underneath.

It would be quick. Do it.

Every time I loosened my arms, I only tightened them again. I wanted a reason to not jump, and kept trying to think of some, but none of them were good enough for me. None of them were valid.

Happiness. A regular life. A future? Psh. I wouldn't get those. Raya was right. I was a whore. The girl who cried rape, even though it was true.

"Hey," a soft voice spoke from behind me, "what are you doing there?"

"Ready to kill myself, what else?" I spat at the person angrily. My loud voice disturbed the peace of the night. Not that it was peaceful, anyway.

"Please don't do that." They said. "Why don't I help you away from there, and we can talk? I'll take you home. I'll buy you ice cream and then take you home?"

"No!" I yelled. I laughed bitterly afterwards, a single tear rolling down my cheek. "Why would it matter if I died anyway? The sun would still come up, the birds would still chirp, and the world would still move. I don't mean anything to this place."

"Don't say that." The person sounded so sad for me. Of course, that's what I needed. More pity. More sympathy.

"Don't say that." They said again, more force in their voice than the last time. "Because you can't tell me that your mother wouldn't cry because her baby wasn't there anymore, or your father wouldn't wait for you to come home just so he could hug you and tell you how much he loved you."

"I don't have a mother or father." Another tear rolled down my face. I was staring at the current. "They both became dead to me a long time ago."

Don't talk to him. Just jump. Bring yourself peace.

"I'm sorry," they whispered, "but what about your friends? Don't tell me that they wouldn't sit in class, staring at where you used to sit, wanting to watch you work or hear you laugh or pass you notes? Tell me that the love of your life wouldn't go home and cry every night because they never got the chance to express how they really felt. Tell me that bystanders who loved you as a person even if they weren't your friend wouldn't wish to see you at your locker, alive and well.

"So fuck the sun and the birds and the world revolving around whatever. You are more important than them. You are worth it, stranger. Please, I'm begging you, let me help." I heard their footsteps against the metal of the bridge.

"The Harrison family," I said finally, "tell them I'm here. I want to say goodbye."

The stranger took in a sharp breath. "Harrison," he whispered, "Harrison, okay."

I heard him dialing a number, then the phone began to ring. "Yeah, hello? Reece, it's me. Please, you gotta come to MHH bridge. Please. Yes, maybe, I don't know, I think it's her. Reece, hurry, she wants to jump."