Cargo. (Chapters 1 & 2)

Part 1

CHAPTER 1
    ATTEMPT
Don Inhaled. Time has gone a lot slower in the past few minutes. He noticed this while he had been standing on the overpass by a crowded rest stop off of the I-35 highway right outside Fort Worth, Texas, a little less than 200 miles out from Sandy's new place in Edmond, Oklahoma.
She only bought the house to get away from Don, and she'd say that to his face. Sandy bought this three bedroom and two bath four weeks ago with the coworker she had been sleeping with for the better part of a year now. Don didn't know about the affair with this Gus Wilter for months, till she called him to tell him about it back in February. She called Don a spineless pussy over the phone that day. Course they fought a lot, what couple doesn't? But, maybe she was right. Those words rang in his ear when he heard them first, and still do now.
It was windy 17.5 feet up off of the street belows asphalt. His hands now started to shake uncontrollably, not just because of the breeze. With his old yellow and tan truckers hat that he had bought in a gas station twenty-three years ago when he first became a trucker in his right hand. He thought how different, and simpler things were back then. How he didn't have to worry about things the way that he does now.  Then a small note that he had written just minutes ago in the left hand. However, he couldn't bring himself to read what he had written down on the torn sheet from his semi-trucks instruction manual. He let out a sharp, shaken, painful exhale.
Don put on his hat, then emptied his pockets. Setting down his driver's licence, which had expired on the third. He set down his old phone, which was a piece of shit that ran too slow. He set down his wallet with thirty four dollars inside, past gym memberships he obviously never used, his Ozzie Guillen rookie card that had a strange odor to it, his medical cards, and his keys. Don set all of this out neat and orderly, placing everything down directly by each other, almost OCD like Finally, Don pulled out a picture from his front pocket of his overalls of an ultrasound of an unborn child. His child, Jane. She was in a sweet position with her little hands pressed, what seemed like as hard as she could against her face, and her face scrunched up as tight as she could. Beautiful. Don smiled at the picture one last time, and set it gently by his keys. He felt his pockets again to see if he had missed anything. There was nothing left.
He rubbed his face, taking off his glasses. He felt his cold silver wedding ring touch the tip of his nose. Don had forgotten it was still on. He pulled his hands away from his face and stood there, staring at the ring on his left hand. He debated taking it off. Would Sandy even care at this point, He thought. For her, out of respect, and nothing more Don took it off and tossed it down next to the glasses that he gently placed right by everything else. Finally taking off his hat and setting it down at his feet.
Don stood up for the last time. His chest felt heavy as he walked to the edge, and put his hands on the wall. Looking out to the world, he could see everything. Families driving to and from vacations, people looking for something to wrap up a local friday night with friends, and others, just driving, together. No one was alone tonight, everyone had someone, besides him. Don envied that. The company of another soul.
For a split second Don wondered why it came to this. No hope for the future, and no one to hold him back. 'No one cares about Don Mayhew.' He thought 'Don Mayhew was all that he was ever going to be. He's already lived his life. He served no purpose being in this world and hasn't felt one in years. God is an asshole who has forgotten about him and left just like everyone else in his life.' Despite this unease in his heart, he knew it was a perfect time. He thought this was THE perfect moment to do it.
He stuffed the note in his front pocket of his baby blue overalls and walked toward the wall. This was it. He thought, putting one leg up over the wall. Inside he felt numb. He suspected people would beg him to stop at this point, but no one was coming to his aid. Another leg up and swung over. He was now sitting on the edge leaning over. Don took another, deeper breath in. He thought how he only had a few more of those left before he made his ultimate decision.
Don looked down. He saw a glimmering, dark red beautiful 2007 eighteen wheeler volvo semi coming in the near distance. His mind was racing but all he could think clearly was that's the one. He stared down the truck till it was a little less than a quarter of a mile away. Then Don held his breath, and began counting.
Three. He leaned closer to the edge, feeling his heels of his new balances hardly touching the ground, loosened his grip on his hands to the wall. Don took one last look around, panicking inside. Now internally wishing someone would save him from himself.
Two. Don faced forward, looking up into the night sky, then down to the oncoming semi, which was now less than a football field away. He let go of the wall, and closed his eyes. Don had accepted his fate.
One.
Don let out the loudest blood curdling scream. He gripped back onto the wall. His feet slid off the side and he thought he fell, but his arms caught him. The semi blared it's horn as it went under the overpass. Tears filled his eyes, but he wasn't about to cry.
He felt defeated.
Don put his legs back over and walked towards his belongings.
He felt unaccomplished.
Don gathered everything, and walked towards his truck.
He felt self-pity.
Don hopped into the driver's seat
He felt anger.
Don got his rusty keys out of his pocket and started the engine.
He felt alone.
Then Don made a promise to himself. "Next week."