Jumpers

Nathaniel's Story P2

(After a few moments, Nathaniel re enters the room, wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks.)

I'm sorry about that. I just find it hard to talk about these things sometimes. Anyways, where was I? Oh, y-yeah. Uh, my mom sort got more and more into drugs as the years went on. When I was 14, she had stayed home from work while I was at school one day. She um, a-apparently overdosed on some drug she got.. and I... I was the first to find her body after I got home.

A few weeks later, some men came to pick me up from the house to take me to an adoption place. As a stubborn, stupid fourteen year old, it's not that hard to believe I never got adopted and ended up staying at the home for the next four years.

After that, I moved to a small apartment in Los Angeles, California. I didn't have much of a job, and I usually stayed at home with the lights off, or I just watched TV all day. I was super depressed and I struggled with anxiety a lot too. I didn't eat a whole lot then, so I was a bit skinny.

Anyways, one day, I just decided I didn't want to be here anymore. I thought that if the world didn't care enough about me up until this point, what was the point in even being alive? So, I put on some old clothes and walked out to my car. I drove until I was about a block from the Golden Gate Bridge, and parked my car in an alleyway.

I remember thinking about all of the people surrounding me as I walked down the bridge. Thinking about how none of them knew or even cared about my pain. They had no idea that I was only a few feet from suicide, and from being gone from this world. I walked faster, getting to the middle of the bridge and stopping dead in my tracks.

I looked over the side of the railing, staring with no emotion down at my death. I climbed up on top of the railing, my old converse beginning to slip on the rounded pole. A few people stopped behind me to watch, but no one attempted to coax me down, urging me to jump. So I did.

I pushed off, flying through the air faster and faster, falling at least 20 feet per second. I remember hearing screams as I hit the water, and then extreme pain, the pain of every bone in my body shattering. Then everything went black.

I was in recovery for nearly two years. Two years of my life were wasted. Those were the times I wish I would have died, but now I understand the purpose of my life. Each day I live I cherish like it may be my last. I have had the small glimpse of death, and I never want to have that experience again. I have learned what it is like to be alive, and how privileged I am to be here with you right now. Thank you so much for this.