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Rated: 13+ · Other · Emotional · #1873734
Response to a 500 word-limit prompt about talking a friend down from a suicide attempt.
My stomach rumbled, and I quickened my pace, keeping my head down and my callused hands shoved in my pockets. Glancing down at my watch, I grimaced and barreled forward, until I ran full force into a thick necked and heavily tattooed man. I was about to apologize when I realized I was standing on the fringes of a very large crowd of people who appeared to all be gazing at one thing, a small figure sitting on the edge of an extremely tall apartment building. Something clicked in my mind, and I frantically pushed my way towards the nearest officer.

“Can I go up there? I know the kid.” The officer shrugged and I set off running into the building. I had absolutely no idea why I was doing this- although it was true I had met Mickey once or twice in the comic book store, I certainly was not in any position to talk him down from a suicide attempt. Despite this, I raced up the stairs, by- passing the broken elevator, and finally reached the rooftop.

“Hey, Mickey.”

The gangly, mousy-haired sixteen year old didn’t turn to look at me, so I walked over and plopped down next to him, resisting the urge to scream as my sneakers hung precariously over the edge. The kid finally turned to look at me, a sad look shadowing his delicate features as if I was the one about to jump.

“Hey, Jack.” His voice was soft, carried away by a sudden gust of wind.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Mickey?”

He turned his head away from me, staring down at the swarm of spectators and kicking his feet in rhythmic circles.

“They kinda look like ants from up here.” I forced my gaze down to the ground below, and swallowed another scream. Mickey looked over at me expectantly, and I nodded stiffly.

“Can I ask you a question, Jack?” I’d never noticed before how blue his eyes were, they were like little pieces of the sky or something.

“Whatever you want, Mickey.”

“Do you think they’ve got comic books up in Heaven?” The wind whipped around us, and I almost reached over to smooth down his ruffled hair.

“Yeah…Yeah, I bet they’ve got lots.” Mickey smiled wanly at that, apparently satisfied with my answer.

It felt like years, then centuries passed as we sat there, staring down at the writhing mass of ants.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Sure.”

Mickey’s eyes were watery, peering solemnly through dark lashes. I glanced up at the sky- it was going to rain.

“Do you think if…if someone dies, but nobody cares- do you think they were ever alive at all?” I felt drops of water slide down my cheeks. The sky was crying.

Tension hung between us like a wall, somewhere miles below us an ant was yelling.

“I would care, Mickey.” Thin fingers reached out for my coat and he yanked me towards him, whispering furtively in my ear.

“I wasn’t really gonna jump.” Our gazes locked as he searched my face for signs that I understood. I did. He glanced away.

“You wanna get out of here?” I stood and reached out to the crying boy on the ledge. Mickey grasped my hand and pulled himself to his feet.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”
© Copyright 2012 Rachel Radley (rachela1214 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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