Freefall

The city lay sprawled at his feet in all its glittering glory and, at this dizzying height, coupled with the relentless blinking of the night lights and the sound of the late night traffic, one could lose his senses. Or his mind entirely.

Wait. That’s an understatement. Hadn’t he lost it already? For surely that was what everyone thought at the sight of him, ghostly-looking as he was. A raving lunatic.

He turned his head this way and that, taking note of the empty rooftop, trying hard to remember clearly how he got here. He only vaguely recalled getting into his car and driving aimlessly for hours, then stopping, walking through glass doors, ignoring people he met as he just kept walking.

And then, here he is.

On the rooftop of the city’s tallest building, seated on the edge, his legs dangling on the side. Seventy-four floors. All he needed to do was slip off the edge, and it will all be over.

He lifted his face to the sky, desperately searching for a star. Any single star. There was none. Yet another prayer unanswered.

His fists clenched and a twinge of pain briefly registered in his hazy mind. Slowly he lifted his left hand to see the source, and the gold band seemed to laugh at him soundlessly. For a long agonizing moment he stared at it, his eyes waging a battle with an unseen adversary in the shape of a thin coil around a shaking finger.

He lost the battle, wrenching his gaze away, left only with the desire to just scream and lash out at the world.

But the world is blameless, is it not? It is him, and him alone, who is at fault.

Numbly he climbed to his feet and stood on the edge, his toes past the ledge. For a split second vertigo assailed him and he closed his eyes, taking a few deep calming breaths. Slowly, he opened them again and glanced at the street down below, swarming with people that were no more than ants from where he was standing.

“It’s an awfully long way down.”

The unexpected sound of an unfamiliar voice beside him would have been enough to make him lose his footing and plunge down into the abyss but surprisingly he managed to stay his ground.

He turned his head to see a woman standing not a few feet away to his right, her arms across her chest, her hip leaning casually against the ledge. She was not looking at him as she gazed down at the street.

Where did she come from? he wondered, briefly appraising the stranger, noting the simple red top and faded jeans. Her long jet-black hair danced with the wind and drifted around her face and shoulders.

She looked up and met his eyes, smiling slightly. “It’s a <I>very</I> long way.”

“You are not supposed to be here.” His voice sounded flat, even to his ears, and he wondered if it was really him who spoke.

“And you are?” She turned to look out at the city. “It’s not like I came here to commit some crime.”

“I didn’t come here to commit a crime!” he said indignantly, pissed that she should pick this time to be in this place. Now, of all nights!

“Murder isn’t a crime?” she asked, giving him a pointed look that effectively silenced him. “You know, the only difference about suicide and actually killing another person other than yourself is that you won’t be made to pay for your own death. Unless, of course, you believe in all that afterlife hullabaloo, then you’re pretty much screwed.”

He let the words sink in, and he sat back down on the ledge without fully being aware of doing so. Suddenly he heard himself ask, “Do you believe in the afterlife?”

“Doesn’t matter what I believe, only what you believe.”

“I don’t even know what to think,” he murmured, his eyes settling on a window across the street. Shadows moved within, two people locked in a slow dance.

“Aren’t you messed up.” It was a statement, not a question, and he turned his head to look at her.

“I’m Derek,” he said, realizing immediately what he is doing and silently berating himself. Why on earth is he dispensing with such trivialities as introductions?

Instead of giving him her name, she grinned widely, suddenly making her look more striking than she appeared at first. “So you are,” she said, then looked down again, a smile remaining on her face. “How long do you reckon it would take you to reach the ground? One, two minutes? About one, I think. What do you think?”

“I never really gave that a lot of thought.”

She went on speaking as though she hadn’t heard him. “You picked a wrong spot, though. Or bad timing. Look down there, the street is crawling with people. Wouldn’t it be a hoot if you landed on a carpet of people and miraculously survive?”

“That’s impossible,” he said scornfully. “You said it yourself, it is a long way down.”

“I’m not too sure it is impossible. Fate, after all, is the cruelest joker of all, and she makes jokes not to make us laugh, that’s for sure.”

Derek threw her an annoyed look, wishing she’d get the message and leave him alone. “Why are you here?”

A mocking smile. “Not to jump, I assure you, so if you’re looking for someone to hold your hand on the way down, count me out.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Leave.” He sounded rude and he knew it, but that’s the least of his worries right now.

“And miss the show?” She shook her head. “No way!”

“Then you’re lucky. You’ll have a front-row seat for free.”

“You bet. A special screening. So,” she rubbed her hands together eagerly. “you ready?”

Derek sighed wearily. “Please. Go.”

She did not speak for a few moments, and Derek kept his gaze straight ahead. When she spoke again, dismay overcame him. Why won’t she just go?!

“You know what I hate about suicidals? They are selfish, or even if they do not start off like that, when the time comes that they want to end it. They think they are the only ones left in the world.”

“They are,” he said flatly.

Her deep breath made him turn his head to look at her, and he instantly regretted it as she was looking at him full-on. Her eyes, for some reason, disconcerted him, but he could not make himself turn away.

“Think about one person, or two, who really, truly love you. What are they to live for, once you’re gone?”

Images of his dear mother, weeping as he stormed off the house this morning, flashed in his mind. Repeatedly she had called out his name, but he still left, much as he wanted to retrace his steps and go back to her, to just hold her and reassure her that he will be fine. But that would only be a lie, wouldn’t it? And he could never lie to her. Never to her.

Then there’s his sister. His sweet, loving Amy, who looked up to him so much that sometimes he thought she was overdoing it. What had she said when he told her not to think too much of him? She had given him that radiant smile of hers and said matter-of-factly, “Dream on, D.” But she had hugged him and whispered, “I love you, big brother.”

Derek shook their faces off his mind’s eye and said darkly, “They’ll survive.”

“Of course, and the best part is, you will no longer be around to witness firsthand the aftermath. You’ll only be nothing more than a bystander watching outside the window. You see, two things can happen. One, they do survive, move on, maybe even forget about you, and then perhaps you’ll be at peace. Or, they are going to be so consumed with grief and sorrow and you will find yourself more miserable than you ever were when you were alive. Either way, it is all out of your hands now, and you’d get to wondering, ‘what was it all for?’”

Her words ran over and over in Derek’s head, coupled with the images of his mother and sister pressing themselves against the thin veneer of sanity that he maintains. When he spoke, the voice that came out was broken, and he wondered if his eyes would fail him now and finally give way to the tears he vowed never to let out.

“You know nothing about me, or why I am here.”

“Believe me, I am not interested in finding out.”

But the words just came rushing out, unstoppable. “Do you know why I want to end it here, now? Because it’s the only thing there is left for me. My dad hates my guts for defying him and scorning the woman he contracted for me to marry. My older brother left home because he somehow had this twisted notion that I am the only son in the family and he’s just a fixture. Single-handedly I have had the distinction of being the only person who made my mom cry buckets of tears. I turned my back on my family, did you know that? I cut off all ties with them.” He shook his head, a bitter smile appearing. “And for what? For whom? For the woman I love, who supposedly loved me back, only she had a sudden change of heart and runs off with this guy who, for years, have been masquerading as my best friend.” He almost spat the word out, instead he bit his lip and stopped talking.

“Wow,” she said after a while. “You didn’t have to tell me all that, you know.” She now had her back on the ledge, her elbows leaning on top of it. Tilting her head back, she slid a sideways glance up at him.

Unabashed, he snorted. “I bet melodrama is not up your alley, but my life is pretty much a soap opera, minus the suds.” It was a lame attempt at being funny, but she smiled.

“Is all that worth taking the plunge, then?”

There was an aura of mystery to her, and deep in her eyes Derek sensed wisdom wrought from experiences. “I see nothing else, could think of nothing else, but this. I want freedom.”

“Freedom?” she echoed, and the night breeze blew stronger, whipping her hair around her face, but she did not seem to mind. Instead she tilted her head further back, letting the wind caress her skin. “This isn’t freedom, Derek,” she said, using his name. “This is running away, hiding from shadows and ghosts. It is not freedom when you fail to recognize that shadows can be dispelled by light, and ghosts…well, ghosts are there, but they can’t touch you.”

“But they can still inflict pain.”

“What is pain, Derek?” She closed her eyes. “If you wanted to jump, you would’ve done so already. Yet here you are still. Are you sure you really want to go?”

“Is that a dare?” he demanded, slighted that she should brand him a coward, although she didn’t use the word directly.

She shrugged. “I’m just saying, what’s the point? If you have hesitations, then don’t go through with it. Just face whatever is there. That works for everything else. Even for your pain.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Things get complicated only if we let them.” She turned around and leaned forward, facedown towards the street below. “When you jump off, it will not be like a bird spreading its wings wide and taking its flight to freedom. It’ll be more like a lost soul who took the jump too early in a bid to get away from everything and everyone else.” Abruptly she looked up and once again Derek was struck with the feeling that she was more than a stranger who meddles with other people’s lives.

“What do you expect to see on your way down, Derek? Freedom, in the guise of a beautiful lady with her arms outstretched as if to catch you? Or the pavement, looming closer and closer, a merciless patch of concrete that will somehow soften when you land, and envelope you in a cushion of forgetfulness? Will it be painless, or will the pain crush you further?”

“You speak like you know so much about pain.”

She smiled. “Trust me. I know.”

Derek frowned, realizing he seem to be forgetting what he came here for. “The whole world is against me,” he said, more for his benefit, to be reminded of his real reasons for wanting to end it now.

She smirked. “Don’t we all feel that way at one point or another? Everything - everyone – conspires against us?”

“Will you jump? Hypothetically?” He suddenly found himself curious to hear her answer.

“Yes. Hypothetically. Sooner or later, everybody’s gotta make that jump. The question is: is it the right time? Are they ready? If it is, and there aren’t any doubts, go right ahead.” A mischievous grin appeared. “It won’t be a pretty sight, though. That is not the way to die.”

In spite of himself, Derek was repulsed by the picture she painted. “How would you prefer to die, then?”

“With my limbs intact and my face in place, thanks very much.”

He could not suppress a smile. “So people would be able to view you in your casket?”

She laughed. “Hell, no. What do I care about those strangers? My family, those that I love…I want them to take one last glance at me and see me whole. It’s about memories, Derek, not appearances. Memories that I keep, and those that I leave behind as I go into the afterlife.”

His brows lifted. “So you do believe in the afterlife.”

“We all have to believe in something, else we’ll be nothing but empty husks in a golden cornfield.” She gave him another smile, then pushed herself off, starting to walk away. Derek turned in his seat, then stepped off into the rooftop, looking after her. “You’re leaving?”

She kept walking without looking at him. “Isn’t that what you want?”

Derek wanted to give chase, but wondered if he should. “You have any idea what you just did for me?” he called out.

“I don’t really care to know.” She’s already at the door and she turned around.

“What if I jump?”

She gave an offhand smile. “I won’t stop you.”

Derek smiled back, feeling like a petulant child. “I don’t remember you telling me your name.”

“I don’t remember you asking.” With a final wave, she disappeared through the door, and Derek found himself alone once more. He glanced around, suddenly feeling invigorated. What the hell was he thinking? Why did he come here in the first place?

He glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps at the door. A bewildered young man in a utility uniform appeared, peering at him.

“You all right, sir?” he inquired, noting Derek’s haggard appearance.

“Of course.” Derek strode casually towards the employee, who smiled in obvious relief.

“I thought you’d be up to something crazy. I saw you come up here, and I thought you’re one of them loonies.”

Derek blinked in confusion and the young man smiled sheepishly. “You see, sir, exactly a year ago today, somebody jumped off this building. I think you were roughly of the same age. Instant, gruesome death.”

A cold shiver ran through him, but Derek feigned nonchalance. “Really?”

“Yeah. Poor guy was wracked with guilt. He was engaged to the daughter of the building’s owner, y’see. Had a car accident, he was driving. She went into a coma, pronounced virtually dead. He got off with just minor bruises. He kills himself and coupla days later, she died in her coma. Tragic, huh?”

Derek was half-listening, nodding his head repeatedly. “Yeah. Sure is. Uhm, hey, did you meet a girl on your way up here? She left just moments ago.”

The utility looked at him quizzically. “What girl?” He shook his head. “I work the top floor and the rooftop, and no one go in or out. I was cleaning the stairwell the whole time. I didn’t see nobody.”

FIN.