The bridge spanned two average cars. The water twenty feet below was shallow, rocky, and without life. Only during storms would the river be truly called a river. It was during that storm - two weeks ago - that Harold looked down to the water. It was sure. He was sure. He only needed to jump.
He stood in the rain, dripping. The downpour, the wind, and the thunder - they sang him a sad serenade. And the rushing water beneath, it murmured and murmured to his ear.
It was a way to escape the trap in which life had put him.
But he had snapped awake from his trance when an ambulance wailed on that dark road. It was an all too familiar tune. It had reminded him why he had come to that bridge and why he should head back then. Mother needed him by her side.
Sunshine cast him a studious glare. Harold knew that his secrets had been bared in the light. There was no hiding the ghastly look on his face.
"I knew it," She clenched her fist, not the least bit relieved in knowing. "I had a hunch but I didn't tell anyone... thought I'd cause needless panic."
"I'm sorry," he said, finally reaching for the glass of water because his throat had turned terribly dry.
The expression on her face ran the gamut from concern to indignation. "I know you're going through a lot but it's unfair that you leave me a keepsake then disappear. I can't help overthinking about it, you know. My, I can't even sleep for nights. After sometime I was just waiting for... the bad news."
"Well, I'm alive and kicking," he laughed but stopped after seeing she didn't laugh along.
Unexpectedly, a shadow of gloom fell over her. "I'm sorry," she muttered.
"No, no, please don't be. You did nothing wrong. It's all my fault."
She looked him in the eye again. "I figured you were trying to tell me about it, otherwise you wouldn't have left anything. Well, even if you're thinking you wanted to go through it alone, I thought deep down you were screaming for help. And I'm sorry for not talking to you sooner."
Harold said, "I'm alright now."
"Liar," she spat.
He didn't know what to tell her.
It was incredible how abruptly her expressions changed. "When I saw that you're back, I wanted to kill you myself. After you dragged me into your mess... But ending your life won't do anyone good. It can appease me, yeah, but it won't really help me, or your mother, or you."
"I'm really sorry, I'm taking the book back and you won't have to worry about me anymore."
She gaped at him, impressed but not positively. "My, how thick can you get!" She nearly yelled, attracting unwanted attention. People glowered at her for bullying the poor boy whose mother was in a coma. She toned her voice down, "I'm in your mess now. If I leave you alone, it'd be akin to murder. Now give me your phone."
"What?"
"Your phone!"
**********
"How are you feeling Harold?"
Mrs. Dolores was the garden-variety guidance councilor. It meant that she could not have guessed how Harold felt when an unfamiliar student came into his homeroom and talked with his teacher who then instructed him, "Please make sure to see Mrs. Dolores at 4 P.M., Harold." Otherwise, she wouldn't have asked how he was feeling right now.
She had motherly eyes and she spoke with a calming tone that's why Harold was at ease with her. "I'm hanging in there I guess."
"Glad to know that." Her phone buzzed. She took a look at it once before rejecting the call.
She glanced back at him, "I don't mean to say that I perfectly understand what you're going through. But if you need to talk to anyone, I'm always here. I want to be more than just your councilor. I can be your friend."
Her phone lit up again. This time, it was a text message which she skimmed through. Not a second later, it rang again.
"I'll just take this call, okay? Wait here."
So in that small room, he was left alone. People have lives. Harold wasn't in the place to order them to bother with his.
Mrs. Dolores wasn't a bad person. But she wasn't good at upholding her promises either. When Harold's mother got hospitalized, he could not attend school for a few days. The day he came back, Mrs. Dolores called for him. He asked her not to tell a soul. He had been honest with her. He wasn't fond of pity especially when it was directed towards him. Then before he knew it, everybody was going out of their way for him without him asking.
It wasn't the last promise she broke. She had said, "I'll be here, okay? If you need someone to talk to, I'll be here. Just walk in that door."
When he felt so suffocated that he sought her, that same door was closed, the office empty.
He understood her. He did. She also had a life.
Mrs. Dolores walked in, apologizing for taking too long. "Sorry for that. Well Harold, I hate to bring this up but you are behind your studies. I want to help you get back on track."
"Thank you, I'd actually like something to focus my mind on."
"Good, good. I'll ask your other teachers for make-up tests on the ones you missed. Maybe I can get you someone to assist you on the lessons from the past weeks."
"There will be no need for that. I can study on my own."
"Are you sure?"
"I can manage."
"Okay, I trust you. You're a bright kid."
*********
Harold was strolling down the hallway when someone jumped at him.
"BOO!" Who else could it be but Ruwara and her unsettlingly short skirts? "I thought you'd brighten up a little. You still look so drab and gray. Gosh."
"Where on this campus have you been?"
"Oh, missed me already?"
"Answer me!"
"Well, doing my godly duties, what else."
"And what exactly are your godly duties?"
She pondered heavily about it for a second. "Well…"
"Well..?"
"Well, why should I tell you? You're not the boss of me!"
She clearly had been stalking teenage boys. She's such a creep of a goddess.
What a classic example of power falling in the wrong hands.
There it was. The school gate. Behind him at last. The day was far from over but at least he reveled in the feeling of having seen through his classes. He deserved to celebrate. "Want some ice cream?" He offered to the goddess who was now eyeing people curiously about.
"Really? I'd like that."
They strolled down the lane, their shadows on the lead as they walked away from the sun.
His cone of ice cream was half-finished when he said, "Ru, do you pity me?"
"Huh?"
"Is that why you came to me? You pity me?"
She remained silent for a while. When the light shone on the right side of her face, she could look decent and wise, like the goddess she claimed to be. "Yes, Harold. I pity you," she said licking her ice cream.