Maybe I Can Fly [Completed]

Part Two

"You know, you shouldn't be doing that. Cigarettes'll kill you."

The tables were turned this time, because now it was the girl that was startled by my voice. She jumped in her seat on the ledge of the roof, almost falling, spitting generous amounts of blasphemy and cursing when doing so. When she got her balance on the ledge again, she took another drag and turned to me, eyes vicious.

"What the hell are you doing sneaking up on people you jackass; I could've fallen."

I mumbled a quiet apology, my mind regressing back to that of a child when I'm drunk. She shook her head, and asked me to repeat what I had said before.

"I said 'you shouldn't be doing that. Cigarettes'll kill you.'"

She gave me a look of disdain before answering, "Well then maybe that's the entire Goddamn point."

I took a seat beside her, an action which she was indifferent to. Or at least, that was what it seemed like. With her stone cold expression failing to falter, I couldn't have told right then. I looked down from the building, my legs slightly dangling in the air. The height of it was about twenty stories, give or take a few that didn't quite matter to me right then. I sat there for a few minutes, watching the streaks of light that the headlights produced. It was supposed to be the dead of night, but in the city that never sleeps, things are always so alive.

And then I thought, I could jump right now. I could have jumped and died right then. I could have closed my eyes and let gravity do its bidding, feel the wind rush past my body, spread my arms pretending they were wings, and just clear my mind. And then, I would feel the impact for a split second, and then everything would turn blissfully black. I would be free.

But I turned toward the girl beside me instead. She took another puff of her Marlboro, the tip illuminating and fading once more as she rested her hand back on her jeaned leg. I broke the semi-comfortable silence.

"Cigarettes, they're just like a slow form of suicide, really. The way they destroy your body, murdering you from the inside out."

She pretended to laugh, the sound coming out humorless and fake.

"We're all addicted to a form of poison. I guess this just happens to be mine."

I just nodded, my mind wandering off to a balcony on the other side of the street. When I'm drunk, I get curious as well as stupid. That's just a fact. I stared at the balcony as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world. I imagined who lived there, and what they were doing at that time, and what they would be doing tomorrow. I imagined a child, a little boy by the looks of the blue tricycle, waking up for school the next morning. And then I frowned. If tonight was a success, I wouldn't be doing that tomorrow.

Then, I felt a slight shove on my back and my body slipped off the edge. I yelped and my heart stopped. I felt adrenaline course through my veins as I sobered up, my chest lurching and my throat tightening. I was terrified. But then, I felt my shirt being pulled back and I regained my balance on the ledge. I looked over to the girl beside me, her right hand still gripping the back of my shirt with her cigarette now in her mouth instead of between her fingers. Her face was bored, expressionless, while mine was sure to be bleached white.

"What the fuck was that for?" I screamed. She shrugged as she took the cigarette from her mouth again.

"You weren't responding; wanted to make sure you weren't dead."

"By what, almost killing me?"

I could've sworn I heard her saying she wouldn't mind if she were me, but I wasn't sure. Yes, I wanted to die, but I wanted it to be on my own terms. I wanted to relish the feeling, not go with fear and ignorance to the fact. I wanted to feel that final bliss of ending pain, to experience tranquility and serenity, not trepidation and panic.