Maybe I Can Fly [Completed]

Part Six - Final

That sentence took her by surprise. Probably because of the unnoticed, well until now, truth in it. If she really wanted to jump, she wouldn't still be talking to me, she wouldn't be laughing with me, and she wouldn't be sitting with me, wanting help. All this really was, this whole situation, was a cry for help. She didn't want to die. She wanted the pain to end. She wanted someone to open up to. She wanted help. She didn't want death. If she did, the pavement under us would be bloody by now.

"So then why are you still here, Caleb?"

I stopped for a second, a little stunned like she was, but quickly recovered. I didn't know the answer to her question myself. I didn't know why I hadn't jumped yet; I didn't see the reasons that I was still alive. I didn't understand. But I didn't let her know that.

"Because I want you to go down those steps but me to soar through the sky until I hit the sidewalk." She shook her head in disbelief.

"You didn't jump. You could've jumped at any time. You could've even just ignored me, not sat down, and walked away. Jumped on the other side of the roof. Not cared if I was here. But you didn't. You keep telling me it's not my fault, Caleb. You keep telling me that life is worth living. What's the difference between my life and yours? Between you and me? If I deserve to live, like you say I do, why don't you? You're trying to save me, but why can't those same reasons be the ones that help you save yourself."

"I don't fucking know, ok!" I shouted, maybe a little too loud because Faith reeled back in response. I saw how she looked a little startled, maybe even afraid, and I calmed myself down. I didn't wanna scare her, not when she just started to trust me. "I just don't know. I'm different," I repeated in a lower voice, "I'm just different."

"Goddammit, Caleb, no you're not! That's the thing. If you keep saying I deserve to live, you do, too. I'm no better than you are. We're the same, remember? You said it yourself, you get me. So then why are you being such a hypocrite?"

"Because I'm scared, ok! Because I'm scared. I'm scared of living. I'm scared of living and dying and everything in between. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I wake up in the morning and there's nothing to live for. I'm lost and I'm clueless and that really fucking scares me. I don't know what I'm doing here, so maybe I shouldn't be here at all. I barely even know who I am anymore, let alone what I should do with myself."

"Then maybe trying to figure that out can be your first step to recovery."

I looked over to her, not knowing what to say. Hell, my head was starting to question if she was even real. Because she made sense. But I didn't want her to.

I looked at her eyes and saw a new emotion, one that was absent for the entire night. Pure, raw determination. Behind the decaying motivation to live, and the shattered hope, and the suffocating sorrow, her eyes held purpose. She seemed like she truly believed that I was worth something. And I didn't remember the last time anyone looked at me like I was more than a lost soul.

"So I'll ask you again," she said, "Why haven't you jumped?"

"Maybe because hope is hard to kill, and even a drop of the poison can be fatal."

"Or maybe you want help just as much as I do."

I let out a hollow laugh, "So what, are we both worth it now, or are neither of us worth it?"

"I don't know. But maybe we should stay a while and find out."

It was silent for a minute before I spoke again.

"You wanna know what just popped into my head?"

"What?" she asked curiously.

"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light," I told her, trying to keep a straight face. "Did you seriously just quote Harry Potter?" I looked down at my hands, trying to hide my smile, "Maybe."

I held out my hand for her to take, "One more try?"

She hesitated for a moment, though just a few minutes ago she was preaching about how we were both worth one last round in the ring, about how we should try fighting one more time. But I understood. I wasn't really certain about the whole stay a while longer idea either. But the fucked up part is that we both were making sense. Maybe we both just needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk some sense into us. Or maybe it was just too late and we were talking crazy. I didn't know back then.

She took my hand firmly, "One more try."

I was about to get up when something dawned on me. "Faith, where's your suicide note?" She dove into her jean pocket and produced a neatly folded piece of paper, holding it up in the air. "Right here. Why?"

I then went through my pockets as well, finding a crumpled sheet of the illegible handwriting of one under the influence. I smoothened it out before presenting it to her like she did moments before. "Give it to me."

She looked confused, but obliged. I unfolded hers and put it on top of mine before looking back at her. "If we're gonna do this, then let's do this right." I then proceeded to tear apart the sheets of paper, creating suicidal confetti. Faith smiled at me as I poured some into her hands after I was done shredding the notes. I motioned for her to get up off of the ledge. When we were both standing, looking over the side of the building, I whispered, "Now let go."

We both opened our hands at the same time, grinning, watching the destroyed suicide notes fall like snowflakes to the ground below. We watched as they disappeared, our one last try starting as of that moment. She looked at me, and I saw a tiny glimmer of hope in her eyes, though if you weren't looking for it you'd swear it wasn't there. And I believed at that moment, I was returning that look of optimism.

And then, as storm clouds collected overhead, it started to rain.