I've never quite liked the idea of being alive. It's a rather redundant aspect if I'm being honest. I've always felt it to be unfair that I didn't get that choice, of well,
actually being alive. I'm not suicidal or anything, I've just always thought it to be an act of injustice.
Though I suppose, the whole suicidal thing might be up for questioning due to my current circumstances. I'm standing on the roof of the hospital building in which I work, my feet dangerously close to the edge.
I've just finished a rather gruelling night shift, filled with numerous car accidents, head injuries and brutality caused by drunkards.
Fucking pricks. Honestly, can't people grow the fuck up. I hate it when complete strangers make stupid decisions that suddenly impact my life.
One arsehole even tried to grope a feel. Thankfully, I had a rather aggressive policeman in the room while I was doing my job.
Back to the present. I've been waiting for my fellow colleague to give me a lift back home, when I suddenly had the urge to dangle my leg over the top of the building. I suppose with all the blood and disgusting bodily odours attacking my senses, I wanted some fresh air but with an excellent view. Though I can't say I'm getting much air, as I'm currently puffing out some rather large smoke clouds from this oh-so-beautiful, cancer inducing stick in my hand.
There isn't exactly much to view though. This shitty town, with its shitty little houses and shitty hospital don't really come off as attractive to say the least. Poverty, unemployment and lack of resources have reduced it to nothing more then pot-hole filled roads and homes made of tin-roofing. It's better then nothing I suppose.
I hate it here. I want to get out. Need to get out.
"Where the fuck is Reina?''
My bitch-like colleague enjoys wasting my time. Apparently, she has a crush on one of the casualty doctors. Gosh, I need to get some sleep, can she not try to get into his pants for even five minutes?
"Squek"
The door to the roof suddenly began opening, and I turned my head, a scowl settling on my features and my mouth ready to fire off some rather colourful words at Reina. Except, nothing came out.
I was frozen. My body could not move. Fear overcame every muscle within me.
At the door, stood a moderately obese, stubby looking man. His balding head glinted in the sunlight and his huge stomach jiggled as he shoved his way through the door. He was red faced and puffy eyed with large purple eye bags.
'Jeez, ever heard of a skincare routine buddy? The beauty community would be quaking in their boots right now!'
It was blatantly obvious that he was exhausted, probably from over exerting himself. The fat-fuck was a criminal that had been all over the news from this morning. He had been found devouring the flesh of a little girl that had been missing for the past week. The police hunted him down, and in the conquest to capture and arrest this heinous human, they shot him in various areas. He had been rushed to this hospital soon after and had been in the resuscitation room for the duration of the afternoon, completely unconscious.
'Fuck me.'
'Of course this would happen.'
'Of course, I'd get stuck with a psycho-killer that is probably going to eat me alive and leave my devoured corpse on this shitty, bird-poop encrusted roof. I'm going to die a virgin and in such a shitty place. Lovely.'
The man's beady eyes stared at me. I observed as he gave me a once-over and a shiver of disgust ran down my spine. Neither of us moved. I noticed that several layers of bedding that were tied together in a make-shift rope was being held in his hands, along with a scalpel blade.
'He's trying to escape. This prick is trying to escape his fate. I… shouldn't get involved. No, it's best if I just let him go. What help would it be if two lives were lost in one day?'
I was never heroic or ever had a bleeding heart. It helps no one. I knew that if I let him go, and then called the authorities after, then that would most likely be the best outcome from this situation. I never wanted to be anyone's saviour. I hate my job. I hate looking after people.
'But.. that little girl. Oh, how much pain she must've been in. The absolute distraught her family must be going through right now. It must be terrible. I… have to stop him!'
Before I could think further, I suddenly lunged myself at the grotesque looking man. My skinny fingers , due to a lack of proper nutrition which I've been trying to compensate by smoking a pack a day, gripped his filth-encrusted hands and a fight akin to a tug-of-war prevailed. A consistent push and pull with me trying to manoeuvre my way around him, so that my back would face the now closed door, but to no avail.
'Fuck this guy is strong as shit! I really should hit the gym more, these noodle like arms are doing me no justice. Curse the current trend of being a skinny-little bitch!'
We continued this battle for a while, with him using a slew of curse words while providing ample resistance to my constant attempts at pulling the make shift rope out of his hand while I tried to reason with him.
"You think this is right? You escaping like this? Look, I'm not exactly a good person either, but I didn't eat a fucking kid and then go on a wild goose chase from the popo! You need help!", I yelled as he yanked on the cloth.
"Fuck you! Let go, bitch! Unless you intend to be my next victim, I'd be careful with my next actions if I were you!", he yelled back as we suddenly engaged in a staring contest. Him with beady, pigeon like eyes and me with my dead, poop brown ones.
'What the fuck am I doing? I should just let him go! But…
I want to do SOMETHING actually good for once. Something that makes me feel like I'm doing one right thing.
I'm not letting go. I refuse to!'
Maybe it was all those sleepless nights I spent studying for finals, or the countless hours I spent cooped up in my room.
Perhaps even the outings I didn't attend because I was committing myself to my career, to the point that I even lashed out at my family and it resulted in me not even having a relationship with them anymore.
I sacrificed so much to be someone. To do good for others, even though I knew in the back of my mind that this job wasn't ever meant for me.
'I want to do this. Need to do this. I may not be a good person but I want to try! I don't care that I scored a negative nine on that one online questionnaire, rating my empathy levels!'
I gave my all in one final tug and I knew, this was it. I had him. I could feel him stagger from the sudden strength of my pull and I almost yelled out in joy. That is until he lost his footing and went tumbling towards me.
I tried to jump out of the way but he quickly moved to grab my arm in order to stabilise himself and thats when all hell broke loose.
He tripped the both of us over and we went tumbling to the floor. I felt my head hit the concrete as his ginormous body fell on top of me, along with the wind being knocked out of of my system. In all of this, I failed to notice just how close we were to the edge of the roof top.
And then it happened. I was falling.
'My god, this is so much worst then those dreams you have about falling of a high building! I'm gonna puke!'
Nothing flashed before my eyes as I fell, not a single thing. I didn't have anyone I wanted to remember me. My stupid career didn't reflect in my memories, not even the meaningful moments of helping those young, adorable cancer patients.
There was just nothing there.
"SMACK!"
We hit the ground. Hard. I felt my body bounce once and then… everything went black.
'So much for being heroic. I didn't even get to ride any dick. Damn!'