I'm sitting in a café, drinking coffee and eating my bagel. It's around 8:30 p.m., dark outside, right after getting out of my eight-hour shift at work. They said being a media assistant would be easy, but who knew I'd be bossed around all day?
I'm done. I'm drained. All I want to do is go home and sleep. It's better that I have nothing or nobody to return to. The last thing I need is for someone to ask me how I'm doing. Ever since my mom passed, life has been difficult. I've been seeing a therapist, and some might say I'm mildly depressed. It was always just me and her, together.
We didn't have anyone else, and we didn't need anyone else—until she got a brain tumor and died a year ago today. I guess I've been getting better, but I still don't feel normal. Nor do I want to. I'm starting to hate this life more than anything. I think it's bad luck at this point. My boss said that if I can't keep up the good work, he'll fire me.
He's been letting me off easy these past few months because of my mom's passing, but he's done with pity now. What more can I do? I'm stuck. I'm 34 years old, and I already feel like I've hit the end of my road. I can't remember the last time I felt anything—anything that mattered, anyway. My coworkers try to invite me to things or take me out, but I know they notice how I've been. I just can't.
Every day feels like a repeat of the last—an endless cycle of waking up to the same thoughts, the same numbness. Maybe if I just disappeared for a while, things would be better, right? Maybe if I leave, I'll get to see my mom again and feel happy. Maybe that's all I need—an escape from this pain, from the numbness.
My therapist says that things take time to heal, but I can't take another minute of pretending I'm okay when I'm not. The thought of just closing my eyes, of not waking up again, is starting to look tempting. It's the only way to stop this… this endless ache inside me. I don't want to keep going, but I don't know how to stop. Maybe it would be easier if I were someone else—if I could just start over. If I could get a redo, one where I'm not alone, one where my mom is still here.
Suddenly, I find myself on the rooftop of my apartment building. I don't even remember getting up from the café or walking here. It's quiet up here, just me and the sky. I look out over the city, and it's beautiful. I can see the entire skyline, the lights of the buildings twinkling in the distance. Down below, families are laughing, couples are hugging, and the air is so still.
For a moment, everything feels peaceful. The wind brushes against my skin, carrying with it the scent of rain, and I can almost forget all the weight pressing on me. I could stay here forever, just watching the world live while I feel numb to it all. Then, my phone dings. I glance at the screen, and my heart sinks. It's a reminder again that today marks the anniversary of my mom's passing.
The tears start without warning, running down my cheeks. I try to stop them, but they keep coming, mixing with the rain that's started to fall. Of course, it's raining. It's like the world is echoing the storm inside me.
But oddly, as the rain pours, I feel a strange calm wash over me. I don't know why, but I feel... light, almost free. Like everything I've been carrying—the grief, the anger, the sadness—is finally being washed away. I can breathe again.
I can feel the pull of something else—something that makes me want to spread my arms and let go. And so, I do. I step forward, closer to the edge of the building. My heart races, but in a way I've never felt before. I feel like I'm floating, like I've finally found my escape. I can hear the wind rushing in my ears as I move, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I can breathe without the weight of the world on my chest. I jump.
For a moment, I'm free. I'm soaring through the air, feeling like a bird, like nothing and no one can touch me. I feel weightless, untouchable. No one can stop me, no one can tell me what to do. The city below looks so far away, and I'm finally away from it all—away from the pain, the reminders, the responsibilities.
I realize, at that moment, that I'm about to end it all. But I'm ready. I feel prepared. The heaviness in my chest lifts, and I feel... at peace. And then, in the next instant, my face hits the ground and everything goes black.