The Bridge

You're standing on the edge of a bridge, fingers wrapped tightly around the railing and eyes staring down into the cold river. You've have to tried to sort it out, tried to make your life work, but it has stopped making sense and all you can hear is a voice screaming in your head telling you that you can't go on. You've been avoidind streets, going shopping and stepping in the bathroom to keep yourself from doing something stupid. It had all gone so well, and you thought that it was going to work out, but now you're standing here, and you're only a few steps away from the cold reality.

Taking in a deep breath, you brace your hands against the railing and push yourself upwards. Your arms are shaking, and you somehow manage to fight your fear of height as your feet move to stand on the heavy metal. For a moment everything feels so light, you stretch out your arms to steady yourself and close your eyes to breath in cool winter nights air.

You've never felt any better.

The water is going to be cold, it's going to be piercing through your skin like a knife. Death will come slowly, the current will be strong enough to pull you under and you know you're too weak too fight it right now. You wonder how long it's going to take for you to die, how it is going to feel when the last air leaves your lungs, makes them burn and have you gasping for breath. At the end you will have to swallow the water in the sudden panic to want to stay alive, it will fill your lungs and the coldness that would have been biting through your skin would by then also be eating you up from inside. Killed by ice. A long and painful death.

Suddenly the panic of the inevitable fills your senses, and you cry out as your feet threaten to slip for a moment. Your whole body feels paralyzed, and you know one wrong step and you will want to have wished for never having thought up of this idea. The fear of death grows with every moment, and images of friends and family standing at your grave rush through your mind, and you realise that this is something you're not at all ready for to happen.

Trembling in fear, you very slowly crouch down, your breathing coming in heavy puffs, whimpering as fingers brush the railing and grasp on to it tightly. It feels like hours before your feet touch the pavement again, and tears instantly run down cheeks, thanking all gods and angels above for being alive.

When the control seeps back through your veins, you push your hands into the pockets of your jacket, pulling out the earplugs from your ipod from one of them and sticking them into your ears. It doesn't take long until the steady beat of your favourite song is calming the rest of your frail nerves and you start to walk back into the direction of your home.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.