Lost Inside

With each pounding step of my feet on the damp pavement, my heart rate races to match it. And I know that with each passing minute, with each passing second, he is one step closer to death.

  Cool, crisp air rushes past my face as I race down the sidewalk. The dim lights of the street lamps my only guide in the black night. With each pounding step of my feet on the damp pavement, my heart rate races to match it. And I know that with each passing minute, each passing second, he is one step closer to death.
      My fingers fumble the phone in my hand as I dial the numbers, 9-1-1. The operter answers and I rush to inform her of everything as I gasp for breaths as I continue running. I give the address of his house and hang up once I hear the voice on the other line inform me of the police on their way.
     I haven't stop running since I got the text; his farewell text. I darted out my door, not bothering to close it and ignoring the shouting from my parents to return inside, and sprinted in the direction of his house. I turn the corner, my chest heaving to catch a breath. I grip the post of a streetlamp, still slick from the rain earlier today, to keep my from collapsing. My eyes narrow in on a tall three story house; the house of his current foster home. I push my feet to move and I am springing down the road again.
     I burst through his front door knowing his foster parents are gone like they are every night. I take the stairs two at a time, round the corner, and climb the next staircase to the third floor. Sweat is building on my forehead and my chest stol heaves for air. As I run down the hall to his room, I pray I'm not to late. I can feel the lump form in my throat at the thought and try to push it aside as I enter his room.
     It's empty.
     I run to the already open window, a scream building in my throat as I bend over to check the pavement bellow. I almost cry in relief when I see it empty. But I don't allow myself because I know its far from over. Quickly, I swing my leg over the ledge and on the the narrow awning below his window. The wind blows my hair in my face as I reach up and trap the roof. I pull my self up, struggling slightly as I grip the slippering tiles. I scramble to my feet, my eyes roaming the roof for his from.
      I see him on the other side of the roof. His dark silhouette looking over the street below. I try to calm myself because I'm going to be no help if I'm histerical and crying. But at the sight of him I almost fall the my knees with relief; he hasn't jumped yet. Cautiously, unsure of what to do, I walk towards him. I'm sure he hears my foot steps against the tile when he turns slightly towards me then looks back to the road.
      Stopping a few feet behind him, I can see how he trembles as he stands there. I want to reach out and hug him, to stop the pain he feels but I don't want to do anything to drastic. We stand there for a second, gauging eachothers actions before he speaks first.
     "I knew you would come. I was waiting." He voice trembles as he speaks, his back still facing me.
     A thousand questions race through my mind but I can only get one question to form, "Why?" I ask quietly.
     He turns around now, tears streaming down his face, his hair dishoveled. I can see the pain, so strong I could grab it. His eyes stay focused on the tiled roof as he speaks. "My brother was hit by a car yesterday." He says as he holds back a sob.
     I can feel the tears forming in my eyes. After everything hes already been through... why did this happen? My cheeks flush with anger. Hes been through so much. His father died when he was 15 and just last year his mother commuted suicide. And now this. His brother moved out shortly after their mother's accident and was living on the other side of town in a small apartment. He wouldn't live in a foster home. Why would he anyway? He was old enough to live on his own. So that left his brother, the broken boy in front of me, to live with a surly couple that was rarely home as his foster parents.
     My heart breaks for him. The tears slid down my cheeks without permission. I take a tentitive step towards him, watching to see any reaction from him knowing how close he is to turning around and plunging down to the street below, but he stays still.
     "I'm so sorry, Jake. But please don't do this." I plead.
      His head snaps up and I can see the anger and sorrow cross his face. "Why shouldn't I? My father is dead! My mother commited suicide! My brother... hes gone." He can't hold back his sobs this time and he almost crumples to the ground.
      "Please. You can't do this." I repeat, my voice breaking as I speak.
      "There's nothing left anymore! I have nothing!" He shouts through his tears.
      "Yes you do! You can't go!" Tears stream down my face. I'm desperate to keep him here.
      His eyes meet mine, red from crying, the green almost completely drained. I can hear the faint sirens down the road. Jake turns around, back to the street. He steps close to the edge and I almost scream at him to stop but my voice fails me as my hands reach out to him. My feet betray me and stay planted where they are.
      He turns back to me, his eyes boring into mine with tears still streaming. "I'm tired of this. I can't handle it if I lose someone else. It's not fair!" He shouts as he tries to hold in another sob.
      "It's not fair but you have to pull through it! You can't give up!" I shout desperately.
      "Like my mother gave up?" He says bitterly, his eyes returning to the tile.  
      "Yes, like your mom. You have to be stronger than her."
      I can hear the sirens getting closer and I know that in a few minutes I might lose a friend.
      His head c***s to the side. "You called the cops?" he asks.
      "I had too. Jake, don't do this." I plead again.
      "No, I have nothing." he says.   
      "You have me! What about me?" 
       He looks up, tears still streaming down his face. "I think you'll be fine without me."
      "I won't. Please, please you can't do this." I say desperately, the lump returning to my throat. 
      He turns around and eyes the empty street. I can just make out the glow of the streetlamps below. "You know, I'm not sure if only three-stories is enough...but if I go head first..."
      "Stop." I beg because I can't hear him contemplating his death. But I'm defeated. I've lost him already.
      He looks up to the cloudy sky, the wind ruffling his wavy hair. "Its a pity. I always hoped that the stars would be one of the last things I would see before I die." He says sadly, directing his attention back to the street. He takes a step forward.
      "Stop!" I yell, choaking on my tears. Another step forward.
      "I'm sorry." He whispers.
      "No..." I whisper back, defeated.
      My heart clenches as he takes another step. He's right at the edge. He turns around, his eyes, empty of the green I love so much, lock on mine again. He gives me a sad smile and I know it will be the last smile of his that I will see. I want nothing more than to run to him, wrap him in my arms and never let him go. But my feet stay glued to the ground. He turns back around and I let out a sob.
      He leans forward and I reach out to him. But I'm to late. He lets himself fall, head first, down to the blackness. I scream, my feet moving forward, and fall to my knees right at the edge. The sirens grow louder as they turn the corner. The red and blue lights illuminating the dark road. I cry and scream for him but I know its to late. My heart clenches in my chest as I hold my middle. My vision blurs from my tears and I curl up on the roof as I sob. The tile wet from rain and tears. I cry for him again but I don't receive a respond. He's already lost inside the darkness now.

Author's Note

I hope you enjoy and sorry for any typos and grammar errors. Thank you for reading. :)
-Aud

Reviews

[Natasha]

You do a great job building up an aura of panic. The desperation of the narrator is powerful. I would suggest giving the reader a brief image of the Jake that the narrator sees... is he funny? sweet? caring?
Why does Jake say "I think you'll be fine without me" and why did he call the narrator in the first place?
I want to feel the same panic as the narrator, but by the end of this story, I can only see his selfishness when he has called someone to watch him arrive at this dark place, with only an insult as his last words to that person.

I love the last sentence. It wraps up the whole of your story very well.

[TheAdamBryant]

such a sad story , i cried you know , cool story
you have talent

[Mary]

Powerful narrative. Suicide is a tough subject but the narrator is quite believable.

[Vernam]

Very nice! I quite enjoyed it. Just some suggestions though.
1. Explore the more senses (smell, sound)
2. Talk about the rain more
3. Maybe say something about him being selfish?