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The Bridge

By January 1, 2018Story

I come here often. The rusted and decaying mass of metal that once was a bridge, connecting the two separated land, gives me a sense of comfort and serenity. The drowning sun was covered with a blanket of gray cloud. I stood on the edge with a cigarette in hand that once in a while touched my lips. The smoke traced its path in the rain that was reduced to a sprinkle, disappearing in the strong wind.



I looked down, the current was strong. The darkness of the dusk combined with the height made it nothing short of an abyss. As the rain continued to form wet layers against my face, my peripheral vision saw a dark figure approaching me. The drug abuse over the year has made me to hallucinate at times. I tend to ignore these ghostly images but as it neared me, I saw it was a girl. She didn’t see me probably because it was dark though she seemed lost of her surroundings. She walked as in a delirium and came to stop at the edge not far from me. I slowly approached her, out of fear, for both me and her. She was almost my age; slender and tall. It’s when she took notice of me. Her eyes were blue and mesmerizing yet the ocean seemed to be overflowing with grief. The face beautiful as the wind veiled it with her curls. It took her a while to take notice of me and when it sunk to her that I was another human, she hurriedly tried to climb the ledge all the time looking at me with a deep hatred in her eyes. I knew what she was trying to do. I said softly, “I won’t stop you” as I took in the killer smoke.



She eased a bit, a faint smile crossed her lips and those blue eyes locked my gaze. She mouthed “thank you” and plunged into the black water below. The now howling wind masked the sound of the ending fall.



I knew that she deserved to die in peace. I don’t go on that bridge now. The unknown sorrow of the unnamed girl haunts me there. That is no more the place of my peace.