I was standing on a bridge, looking below. I saw the rapid river current rocking a boat moored to the bank. I did not know what to do with myself. Nothing clever came to my head. Should I jump? I wouldn’t needed to worry about tomorrow at last.
How many times have I asked myself the same question? There have been months during which the question was raised every day. Obviously, I kept crying at the beginning, covering myself with a pillow, silently screaming to God: if you exist, take me out of this hell at last. And later, when I was still breathing, I was inventing a plan how to leave. Sometimes, such reflections took me long hours. But these thoughts were always taking me to the same point that I am in now. To nowhere.
I drew back from the railing. I’ve noticed a young biker pedaling from one end of the bridge. I did not want to raise any suspicions.
The cyclist stopped around 100 meters behind me. I got upset, as someone spoiled my evening again. I decided to ignore him. I came nearer to the railing to feast on the death that was within reach. Before my eyes, I already had images of me jumping into cold waters. I saw water flowing into my mouth, filling my lungs, forbidding to breath. I already saw how they fish me out and inform my immediate family about my death. I imagined how my mother leans over my coffin and falls into despair. My father and sister alike. Everyone started to realize that they cannot live without me. They apologized me for all bad things they did to me. They struggled to forgive themselves for what they caused…
I came into such a daydream state that only after a while I noticed that the guy on a bike is standing halfway along the railing, leaning over it.
“What are you doing?!” I screamed at him.
“I just thought it will be much nicer for you if we jumped together.” Answered a tall blond guy with a disarming smile.
“Gosh, you are stupid, I didn’t want to jump.” I said, feeling embarrassed.
“Oh, that’s great, because I am not that excited about it also. I still have a load of things to do.” Said stranger, with a pretended pensive look on his face.
“I do not understand why you stopped here in the first place?” I answered the cyclist with my voiced raised.
“And you?” He asked perversely.
“I had my reasons apparently. Besides, I do not need to explain you anything.” I grunted.
“Well, so I do not need to explain you anything either.” He laughed.
I shrugged. And felt awkward. I just wanted to run away, I felt that my cheeks are burning with a mixture of shame and anger. Some strange guy stopped and caught me on suicidal thoughts. I had imagined this completely differently. Even If he was my savior from death, he could show more empathy, and not laugh at me straight into my face.
“So? Are we jumping or not?” The biker roused me from my thoughts. “You know, I can imagine a deal of more entertaining things to do than standing on the bridge and crying into my beer.
“I am not crying into my beer!” I attacked him.
“I am not talking about you, I am only talking about myself!” He replied softly.
Good point. He outraged me, because he touched my weak spot. True, I kept worrying about my life, my faith. My parents were constantly working, clearly favored my sister. I felt alienated in my own home. I always had to defer to her wishes. Even if both of us were naughty, it was I who would be punished, it was I who had a ban and it was I who needed to face all the consequences, while she would always get away with everything. And later she would insolently laugh that parents were lenient with her, and I am not allowed to go for any party. My life was a complete disaster. I did not hang around with friends, did not have a boyfriend.
“Do you want to go for a bike ride?” Offered the boy.
“I don’t have a bike, are you blind?” I looked at him with sympathy.
“Don’t worry, I have a basket, we will manage” He laughed. “Do you want to be a passenger or hold the handlebars?”
I looked at him, sort of puzzled. Not knowing what to do.
“Don’t force me to beg. Ok, I can pedal. You don’t look heavy, we should make it.”
The cyclist cavalierly invited me to take my seat on his vehicle.
“Gosh, what am I doing?” I answered skeptically, squeezing myself into the basket.
“You are starting your new life. I will show you more interesting spots in our city than this bridge, a jumping platform for cowards and lunatics like me. I will show you that there is more interesting stuff to do than thinking about foolish things.”
“How did you appear here?” I asked a little more friendly.
“I come here from time to time and save some would-be suicides like you.” He smiled flirtatiously.
“And honestly, I also stood in this place one day and wanted to get over with everything. But somebody showed me that life can be beautiful if I only want it to be such. I hope that today I will return a favor to my savior.” Said the biker, looking somewhere over my head.
I felt I must trust him.