Tower of sand

A Story by Voe

A young man struggling with suicide

I am stuck, banished, abandoned. This place is a prison. stuck on a tower of sand. I find my self dreaming for water. I must live with only what I get from the rain.

I am woken by the howl of the wind. I see the moon just before the fast moving clouds engulf it. Sand hits my face and stings I pull my thin shirt over me and huddle into a ball. I look at the mountains in the distance and before my gaze reaches the small mountains I am shocked. I see others like me. On towers of sand huddled and scared. People captured by sand towers and must make do with what they have up there. I feel a rain-drop hit my face and I prepare my self for the hours of pelting rain that will surely come. I hear cries for help from others. I do not see what is to fear from a storm. And then i see a tower of sand come crashing to the ground but instead of the desert I remember it is water and waves. Fear strikes me as I realize my tower might not hold out. I panic. I see another tower fall. What has happened? Why are there others? Questions buzzing through my head then half my tower fall away. My small tower roof has become even smaller I see others fall and I hear screams. Then I see something unusual a man jumps from his tower. I am interested in the reason behind his jump to death. Does he not hope? Why does he not try to live? I try to remember yesterday to bring my mind from this hopeless man. I can not think of anything but the situation. I try and justify his reason to jump and my tower grows taller. More of my tower falls away before I have time to wonder why it grew taller. I stumble and fall to my chest my head is over the edge of the tower barely enough room to take a step. I acknowledge that the tower will fall and it grows taller. I try to think why I see no logical explanation to why it grew. As I think I survey the view there is only a couple of towers left and no people on them I am alone on a tower about to die. My tower grows. I am starting to considering jumping but why? Why would i need to jump? Am I impatient? Why is it an option? To stay here on the tower is to postpone the inevitable. My tower grows. But then doesn't that mean that life is delaying the inevitable? So why do i even bother with thinking? And if I have lived this long without giving up and jumping why end it now? The tower shrinks to be smaller. Why? Why is this happening? I stop and think I close my eyes and think of everything I have just witnessed. The wind in my hair, the sand hitting my skin, the sounds of water. I can not concentrate. I think of the man that jumped and can't help but think he just wanted to get it over with. My tower rises. Then I think of what I could do with my seconds and maybe even minutes I have left of my life. I think of my life before the tower. Adventuring with my friends. My tower shrinks so low i could almost jump and survive. The splash of the waves hits me I could probably jump into the water and survive. But then what? I remember why I was in the desert in the first place. I was lost and thirsty I had decided to give up hope and just die when this tower rose from the ground and a storm came over and gave me water. I still want to die. But doesn't everyone? I go back to what I was earlier thinking about, about just ending and not even worrying about having to end or stay, and who knows life after death could be real and I would face this problem again and again and again. But I could just die and cease to exist. And the thought of not existing is somehow comforting. My tower rises. I jump.

I look down and see the knife in my chest blood pouring from my stabbed heart. And i go.