Do you really think this is the end?
My feet dangle over the edge of the Golden Gate Bridge. My hair laps in the fierce wind that forces the waves below to foam up and dance about. She whispers in my ear again.
Do you think that this is it?
It had been a long time coming, but I am here. Finally. I know what I have to do. What I need to do. It will all makes sense in that fathomless depth below. The icy water rushing over my skin and into my lungs, my veins, my muscles. Don’t let them tell you it’s fake, she said. Don’t let them tell you it’s just black and nothingness. A void.
They are waiting for you.
To think how beautiful silence would be. To think no longer will I need to think. No more rush hour. No more breathlessness. Just a muteness that will last for eternity.
That’s right, you will relish in eternity.
Cloud cover formed quickly and loudly. Droplets raced down to the earth to soak up the soil, join the rivers, rust unprotected sentiments. I will slip soon. Am I ready though?
You are ready. Do it.
I don’t think I am. What about my family? What’s left of them at least. Won’t they be sad? Won’t they wonder why?
I never pondered on it. Maybe I should. The noise is too much though. I hate this city. I hate all these busy little ants in their loud cars with their obnoxious voice boxes.
I’m drenched now. My fists are starting to lose grip. I guess that’s ok. My centre of gravity is moving forward, and I don’t care. Is it time yet?
I trust her, I think. Down I go. Faster than I thought. Should I make myself a pin shape? Will it hurt less? Does it even matter at this point?
No answer. I’m panicking. One minute I can feel the wind toss me about mid-air, and the next my brain haemorrhages from the impact of the icy water, slapping my body all at once.