The writing on the floor says: “But did you die?”
I hesitate slightly, eyes searching for the tin of markers.
I grip one and flick the top open with my thumb.
Almost, I write.
50 minutes earlier
Knees on the platform first. Then elbows and forearms, palms facing up.
My torso lunges forward and I can feel myself start to shake.
I watch the sweat drip from my forehead onto the fabric.
One, two, three, four.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Toes gripping.
Stronger.
She held her birth certificate in her hands and examined it from all angles.
Thumb pressed into the signature she flicked the lighter in her left hand and watched the flame come to life. One corner of the paper lit and the rest was engulfed in flames within seconds.
She stood up and grabbed her bag from the table.
Passport, check. One bottle of Makers Mark. It had always been his favorite. She remembered walking down the road, swinging the bottle from her fingertips as she turned to look back at him laughing as he winked and flashed that famous grin of his. That was their place, the one that held the most memories for them. The water glinted blue in August, green in September. She remembered the smell of sulfur that engulfed her nostrils the moment her body hit the water. Swimming calmed the palpitations momentarily. She looked towards the bank, lips curving into a smile as she noticed his eyes on her.
Life happens when you're not watching, they say.
She examined her fingernails as the last flame died away. She flicked the dried blood from the corner of her lip and sighed as her fingers curved over the cool ivory handle.
It was time.
I love greatness. Who doesn't?
I love to watch it, bask in it, and see it happen.
There is nothing that raises the hair on the back of my neck faster than to watch someone be amazing. Glorious.
Maybe it's because it takes hard work and perseverance to be great.
As long as there is greatness there is hope.
He tells me she's young.
“My age?” I ask.
“Pretty much, yeah.” He responds.
The skin on my arms starts to tingle.
I feel like a small hammer is slowly pounding on my guts.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
I pinch the skin on my forearm to keep from crying. I watch my chest rise and fall.
Rise and fall.
I roll my thumb and index finger together.
Repeat. Repeat.
I put on my headphones and open Pandora. When the music starts I turn up the volume, just loud enough to drown out the people around me.
One, two, three clicks.
My thoughts swirl to the beat.
You. Aren't. Good Enough.
Try. Harder.
Don't. Be Weak.
In the morning my brain feels like a dense fog. My muscles could be chains and I wouldn't know the difference.
I stumble to the bathroom and put in my contacts.
I blink.
Once, twice. I can see again.