Holding Hands

Sometimes life has a strange plan for us; we may or may not agree with where we go, but it's a path we're expected to travel. A lucky handful of people get the chance to have their voices be heard, to have their ideas prosper and flourish into what is known as a life-changing event. Some are almost as lucky, and they have the ability to display talents that only require a body of some kind (hefty, lean, plump, boney, etc.), but what they say or think only matters if it offends a larger group. Most people just end up living a boring life behind a desk where they have no chance of becoming something big. They dream and hope, but it never becomes a reality. They continue on with mediocre lives.

Then you have a group that gets nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. Their lives are one disaster after another, and, no matter how hard they try, they never get what they want. They're the toes people step on to get what they want. They don't deserve the fate they receive, but, no matter that truth, they still get it.

I don't want to risk having to become one of those people.

I looked over the bridge, my eyes focused on the railroad below it. The bridge was maybe thirty feet high--a nice height, maybe good enough to make it quick and painless. I hoisted myself up onto the railing and promptly sat down, kicking my feet back and forth. For some crazy reason, I felt the happiest I had in a really long time. The entire day, I'd stayed away from most people; I was never really interested in people much. No matter how nice they appeared, they were always fake and hypocritical. That's something no one ever owns up to. Everyone is a hypocrite.

Gosh, I hated it here. I'd thought that, once I got out of high school and got away from the people in my hometown, I'd be okay. I would be able to live my life the way I wanted, I could choose the people I was around, I could choose whatever fate and life that I wanted. For some reason, it got into my head that I actually had control over what happened to me.

What a load of s**t.

I gripped the side of the railing hard with my hands, my nails crushing into the side and sending intense, sharp pain through my fingers and into my hands. Could I do it? Could I end it?

"Kind of figured I'd find you here."

I let out a sigh and turned around, eyeing John up and down. I looked back over the horizon. "What do you want?"

He walked over to me, leaning his elbows on the railing and looking out with me. "People'd been asking about you. Where you were and stuff."

"How'd you know I'd be here?"

"We walked here once," he answered. "You said that this was your place, and that you came here to clear your mind. You also said that this would be the only place you'd choose to commit suicide."

I actually told him that? Huh...

"People need to mind their own f*****g business," I replied.

"Elika, come on. Get down from there."

"No."

John sighed, but said nothing. A while back, the two of us had something. It wasn't a long-term thing, because we're both fucked up beyond repair, but it had meant something to me. He'd shown up after a break-up I had and just completely flipped my world around. For some odd reason, we'd stayed friends.

"Please, Elika."

"Just let me be, John."

He slipped his hand over the back of mine, just short of pried my hand off of the railing, and intertwined his fingers with mine. "Elika. Please. Get down for me."

I barked out a laugh, "Don't pull that. You would always get so pissed when I pulled s**t like that." I looked over to John, "It wouldn't destroy you if I died. You'd live on and be amazing, cause that's just who you are."

I looked back down to the railway. "I'm just another face in the crowd, John. You of all people know that, and you of all people made that evident."

John just stood there and stared at me. His brown eyes were very flat and inexpressive, as always, and I still found myself begging for some hint of what he was feeling. The next thing I knew, he was sitting on the railing next to me.

"Go away."

"Nope."

I let out a loud, exaggerated groan. "Just stop! Just let me enjoy the last few minutes of life in peace!"

"If you jump," he began, "I jump."

"Don't you f*****g dare."

"You wanna try me?"

I fell silent. John was still holding my hand. Butterflies had found their way into my stomach.

"Of all the people in the world, Elika, please just listen to me. I don't know what I would do without you here with me. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you there, nagging me about being happy and not giving up. I don't know what I would do if I lost that."

"You'd survive," I mumbled.

His hand squeezed mine. "Not if you don't."