Wraiths & Roses

As my alarm clock rang, I opened my eyes to a water-stained ceiling. Stubbornly, I pulled myself out of bed and threw on whatever was clean off my floor. My room's window had a clear view of my town's cemetery, the place which I spent most of my time in just so I could get out of the house. I would often read the names on the grave stones, and think to myself what tragic event caused their demise. Sometimes, I wonder if it was even tragic. In fact, tragic was a word that I used very sparingly. For me, tragic was death of a newborn baby...loss of a friend...a mother...

As I pulled together the mess of hair on my head, I trudged down the old creaky stairs of my house. As usual, my father was passed out on table from a long night of drinking. Before I could even step out of the house, my father some how mustered up the enough strength to yell,

"Where the fu¢k are you going?"

"School, dad." I replied, hoping he wouldn't remember the fact that it was saturday.

"That's nice. Hurry the fu¢k up then, your late.", he said, before he passed out again.

As usual, I made my way down to the cemetery. Once again, I found myself walking through the endless rows of tombstones, reading each one of them, imagining the life that they might have lived. Then, I came across a faded out black tombstone. The name read "Sara Clancy", my mother. Even though she died when I was much younger, I still felt a very strong connection with her. I've always felt as if she was the only one who really listened to me.

Now, in order to exit the cemetery, there's a bridge you must cross. The bridge is as old as I can remember. It connects two sections of the cemetery, with a large gap in between. Everyday, I cross this bridge. I would even sometimes sit at the ledge of the bridge...and let my legs dangle. There seemed to be this endless breeze of wind that would flow under the bridge. I would often let the currents of wind just carry my legs...

I've often wondered what it would be like to die, especially falling. I can just imagine the feeling right before you take that last step. I've always imagined the plunge...the wind, blowing against my face...soothing a smile. Especially that moment, right before you hit the ground. A...a feeling of relief I guess. A relief from...life. The problems, the heartache. What If...that one step...could give me the peace I've been searching for?

Would anyone even care if I was gone? My friends, my classmates, my teachers...my dad. That's another thing I've always wondered about. Would anyone even notice. I can just imagine my dad selling out my room for an extra buck, and my friends..."friends"...I don't even think they know I exist. Am I really...nothing? Just a void in human society? Maybe the world would be better without me...

That step...I had to take it...