Reasons Why

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by The Writing Owl, Jan 6, 2015.

  1. The metal below her felt cold. She supposed it was only normal, since the sun had yet to pass over the horizon, the first rays tinting the morning with dull light. Mist carefully rolled across the bridge. It stuck to everything, making the world around the woman sparkle as the morning rays softly rolled out. The waters below her were obscured, hidden by the last tendrils of night and mist. The waves crashed, its sound only multiplied by the silence of the world around her. All was peaceful, perfect for a relaxing morning walk.

    Perfect for someone to end it.

    Monica closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh air of the small town. The wind played with her short brunette locks, whipping them into her face. She didn't mind. The water would fix it all soon enough. Green eyes watched as the sun sought to brush away all the mystery, the mist of early morning. The slightest breeze threatened to push her off of her perch, cold metal biting into unfeeling legs. White knuckles gripped the beams below them, struggling against the urges of their owner. So close, yet so far.

    Looking up at the sky, Monica let her mind wander. This was a good place to die. She edged herself closer to relief. Just a bit more and she could forget all that kept her down. Her blouse fluttered in the breeze, ruffling with her skirt. Whispers seemed to goad her on. Just do it, they whispered. Go ahead. It will be quick and painless. No one would mourn her. She made sure of that. Slowly edging closer to the raging waves below. She hadn't planned for someone else to be awake.
  2. Night shifts were the worst. Christopher was always working them. He was just finishing his patrol around this section of the county, going through a few various backroads and more rural and suburban areas. Christopher is a deputy in the Lincoln County Sheriff's Department. This was his third year on the job, and his 6th month on the night shift. He came across a bridge and saw a person on it. Great. Probably some drunk or some crack addict. I'll give her the benefit of the doubt... His 2012 model Crown Victoria Police Cruiser pulled up to the side of the road, near the bridge. He called in his status over the cruiser's radio and let out a small breath before speaking, "Deputy Swanner Code 6 at Memorial Bridge. No assistance required." He said as he exited the police cruiser, his green short-sleeved uniform looking neat and well-pressed. Christopher is about 5'9", pretty fit in the way of muscular tone. His brown hair was kept short to keep from giving any criminals an advantage over him in a fight. Christopher approached the woman cautiously, calling at her from a distance of three feet. "Ma'am? Is everything alright? It's quite cold, and you're not wearing much." He couldn't see her face from this angle, just the side of her body.
  3. The voice had startled her. Slipping from her already precarious position, the young woman managed to cling onto the rail of the bridge. No. No, no, no, no! This was not supposed to happen! She was supposed to die in peace, not in front of this man who called her! A tiny voice within her told her this was fate. It screamed at her. You need to live! However, the larger part of her told her to let go. This was what she wanted, what she needed. Her legs dangled underneath her uselessly. She hadn't expected them to do more. All she needed to do was slip and the man could call it off as an accident. Just another obituary in the paper. Tan hands turned white with the effort of trying to support her whole body. This was it. She was going to fall. Monica had imagined this moment to be more poetic. Rather than dangling from a bridge, she would fly through the air. Possibly even fall straight into the dark depths below. Her desperate struggle to hold on felt useless. Just let go, she tried to tell herself. It seemed so easy. However, there was a man standing there watching what she would do. Monica needed to let go. Just let go!
  4. Christopher immediatly ran over to the girl, shouting "Oh my God! Hold on tightly ma'am!" He shouted as he took in a deep breath, he was certainly not ready for this. And this was his fuck up. His problem to solve. There was no way he was letting the girl fall, knowing that it was his fault would destroy his conscience. Christopher grabbed one of her arms, getting an extremely tight grip onto it. Grunts escaped from his mouth, originating somewhere in the upper half of his throat. It's not that he was weak, but lifting bodies off of ledges was a situation he hadn't quite been into before. Christopher, having now affirmed his grip into a more comfortable and strategic position, pulled the woman carefully up from the ledge, carefully helping her onto the ground, making sure that there wouldn't be any accidents in which she'd fallen or anything. Once she was safe, Christopher let out a bunch of heavy breaths and rested his hands on his knees. "I'm so sorry *pant* about that...." He ran a hand through his hair and was unsure of what to do from this situation. She didn't look injured, maybe a bit of pain from where he'd pulled on her arm, but that was it as far as he could think.
  5. Panting, Monica looked up at her supposed savior. He seemed to be a strong man, and was asking if she was alright. "I'm fine." She said on impulse. The young woman was sitting on her legs, glancing over at the river below memorial bridge. She still could jump. She just needed to get him to leave... "I'm fine, thank you for saving me." She meant none of it. Not a single word as she gazed longingly at the churning waters below. Turning back, she tried to give the man a smile. "I think I'll be fine. I just have a few more things to do here, then I'll be on my way home." Lies, more lies. It was all just an act, and she knew it. The brunette wasn't going to go home. She was going to jump off the damn bridge and leave this God forsaken world before it ground her further into dust. The man in front of her didn't need to know that, however. He could continue on with life knowing he possibly saved a life and that no more needed to be done. She could continue with her jump and everything would be right with the world. The woman nearly wanted to laugh at how she continued to call it a jump. How could one jump when they had no use for their legs? It was simply impossible. Fall. That was a better word for it. For now, she needed to get the policeman away from her so she could continue with her... fall.
  6. "You don't seem fine. Why were you on the bridge like that? You could have fallen in." Christopher had a somewhat sympathetic look on his face. Sure, she could tell him to fuck off. But she hadn't yet. It was Christopher's job not only as a Peace Officer, but as a human being as well, to ensure the safety and happiness of others. Christopher began to think back at what time it was from when he last checked. When he left the cruiser, it was about 4:45. Surely it was at least 4:55 by now. Five minutes until his shift ended. Five minutes until he could head home and watch some Netflix maybe....get a nice relaxing hot shower....then sleep. But he had other priorities to tend to first. This being one of them. He cared about his job and what he did more than anything, he was completely devoted. "Hey. If you need a ride, my car is pretty warmed up, and I've got some time to kill before my shift ends. Would you like me to take you somewhere?" Christopher said with a sincere grin on his face, the skin under his eyes pushing upwards to amplify the smile just a bit more.
  7. Damn it, he was honest. Monica hated honest people. It made it that much harder to lie to them. He asked why she was there. Oh, there were quite the few reasons she was there, and thousands she could pass off as why she was sitting on that precarious position. She had a story ready on her tongue, waiting to spill so he could leave. However, he gave her a grin, that damn sincere grin, and her true intentions started to flood out. "Maybe, I wanted to fall in." She stated, the words tumbling past her lips. "Maybe I just wanted to... fall." He would think she was crazy, insane even. Of course he would recognize that tone in her voice, that wistful almost hopelessness that only the depressed got when they were on the edge. Her throat constricted, leaving her voice tiny and weak. "Maybe... I wanted to die." Afterwards, he would probably leave her alone. She could only hope at least. Many humans and their damned consciousness seemed to feel that those who wished to die required help. Perhaps that was true, or perhaps she just wanted everyone to leave her alone so she wouldn't feel guilty for wanting to end her life.
  8. Christopher's tone of voice had become a bit lower and more....human. Rather than just obviously memorized and scripted phrases he was supposed to say in any event. "I have a protocol I'm supposed to follow for situations like this. But forget that. Let me talk to you. Human to human. Not cop to civilian." He took off the copper star that was pinned to his shirt and then set it down on the ledge of the bridge.

    "Let me tell you from personal experience, dying isn't fun. It hurts. And you fight to live on. I haven't experienced death itself, but I've had a nice and long conversation with him. He isn't a pleasant individual to be around. Death may seem like a pleasing idea right now. But trust me, whatever you're going through isn't worth ending your life over it. You get one chance at all of this. And life is literally what you make it. It's all a matter of perspective really." He said, with his eyes starting to go distant. Memories were starting to flood his brain as his lips continued to move. "I was in a dark place in my life in high school. Just ending it all seemed amazing. Not having to live with anything. Just end it all. Blank. Nothingness. Humans have a lot of fight in them. That's why your hands wouldn't let you fall when you were dangling from the ledge. Because inside your mind, you know you don't want to die. From personal experience, things get better. It's probably one of the most over-said statements...but it couldn't be truer. Because if you think about it. Whatever's causing you to contemplate suicide is some pretty rough shit. That being said, you can only make things better for yourself. If this really is the worst part of your life. Then, hell, you can always make things better."

    Christopher could continue, but he really decided that it was best that he didn't. He could continue going on and on with his ramblings and trying to encourage her not to do anything that she'd regret. But he accepted the fact that she would have to make her own decision. His duty was to protect civilians from danger....not follow them around all day as a guardian angel; keeping them from death when it calls.
  9. Her plan was spiraling out of control. This wasn't suppose to happen. He wasn't suppose to be here, she didn't even know who he was! Tears gathered, making the young woman curse. "Damn it..." Thick tears clouded her vision, blurring the edges around almost everything. "This... This wasn't suppose to happen!" She was sobbing. Her shoulders shook while tears landed on her thighs. "You weren't suppose to come. You weren't suppose to see me! I was supposed to be dead!" The brunette didn't care anymore. This was her newest low. "I've been trying for two damn years to move on, make the most of my fucking life! You know what it's gotten me? Pity. Nothing but God damn pity." Her voice cracked. Pathetic. She was absolutely pathetic. Blubbering in front of a cop left her feeling more worthless than before. "I've got nothing left." She gave the man a watery smile. "So why not end it all?" Afterwards she fell into a sobbing fit, curling into herself once more. Gasping for breath through the embarrassingly loud bawling, Monica knew she needed help. However, she wasn't ready to admit it. "I just want to go home..." It was a small request, but it wasn't the home she had in the small town.
  10. Christopher was on the verge of tears himself, he was very empathetic, especially when it came to this subject matter. He tried his best to keep from crying, regardless of how hard it was. "Well. I can give you a ride home...let's go to my cruiser... And I don't pity you. I respect you. Very few have the nerve to hold on, when faced with that situation. Let's just get you home." He said in a soft tone, grabbing the star-shaped badge and re-pinning it exactly where it had been previously on his shirt. He began to motion towards his car. He rested an arm around her shoulders for reassurance. "Come on." He said as he walked towards the car. Once he got to the cruiser, he opened the passenger side door and waited for her to get into the seat.
    #10 iApollo, Jan 8, 2015
    Last edited: Jan 8, 2015
  11. He had tried to help her, tried to get her to go home with him. However, as he held her shoulder, trying to get her to walk. Monica shook her head, puffy and red eyes staring up at the man. "I can't walk. I'm sorry, but I can't walk." Useless. She felt utterly useless. Here this man was, trying to help her and she couldn't even walk by herself. She had gotten rid of the wheelchair, rolled it away when she had pulled herself onto the railing. She wasn't sure where it was now. She didn't have it in her to tell the man that she had been evicted from her home yesterday. Unable to pay the rent, she was shoved out onto the street. But that was beside the point. At the moment, she had to explain to the man in front of her that she physically couldn't walk.
  12. "You can't walk?" In the entire experience, he hadn't even gathered that she was crippled at all. "Here. I will pull my car up a bit closer, and I'll help you in, alright? I do not care what it takes, I can't leave you here alone. Christopher gets into his car and puts the car into drive, bringing it a good bit closer to the woman. He was careful not to get too close to the bridge's ledge, yet was still a great deal closer. "Help me help you." An odd feeling was coming over Christopher. Desperation? That's what this feeling was easiest associated with. He was absolutely desperate to do whatever he could to help this woman. In the distance, the sun was beginning to rise. The few street lamps that were along the road began to cut off as the natural light began to take over.
  13. Monica shook her head, wondering how he hadn't figured it out yet. "I can't walk. I physically can not walk. I'm crippled." She hated the word. Crippled. It just screamed helpless. The brunette wanted to be anything but helpless. Slowly, green eyes looked over the area before back to Christopher. He probably had a whole slew of questions. Despite her willingness to accept his help, she wouldn't answer them right now. At the moment he was a cop, and she was the victim he was saving. Nothing more, nothing less. That damned dead feeling bubbled underneath her chest. She wanted to curl up in a hole and escape the world. He wouldn't let her though. She was stuck with no escape.
  14. "I understand what you're saying. But what I'm asking for is if you're alright with me helping in getting you inside. I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with." Chris felt odd in this situation, awkward was the more...correct word. Embarrassment was the strongest emotion in this situation, well, until he'd realized that it was completely selfish for him to think of himself in a time like this. He wanted to do whatever he could to help the girl, he could empathize with her. He was almost in the exact same position as her, he hadn't had his legs disabled, but everyone fights their own monsters. Christopher's just took a different form.
  15. Ah, that's what he meant. A rush of embarrassment flooded Monica's cheeks as she nodded. "Yeah, I'm alright with you helping me..." She hesitated before holding her hands out to help him help her into the car. She'd have to tell him where she lived... That wouldn't go over well. He probably would have to drop her off somewhere, anywhere before having finished his duty as a policeman. Useless, that little voice in the back of her head whispered. You're useless. Monica could feel her spirits drop. She had her chance. The brunette could have let go. She should have let go. Tears ran down her cheeks, leaving salty trails as she tried to do something to make her seem worth helping to the man in front of her.
  16. Christopher felt a small involuntary grin come to his face as he carefully picked Monica up from underneath the bend and her knees, and holding her steady from her back. He carefully lowered her into the passenger side seat, and made sure all limbs were clear of the door before he shut it. Christopher slid into the drivers seat, pulling the door shut behind himself. "One second." He whispered as he grabbed the microphone piece of the radio. "Officer Swanner clearing from last. Calling in End of Shift." It wasn't really ever recommended to 'clock-out' from the cruiser, but it was often something done for pure convinience. Many officers would start heading towards their house at the end of their shift, so it started becoming one of those unwritten policies. "Anyway, where am I taking you?" Chris began driving away from the bridge, off towards the other side into an area that had most light blocked off by the thickness of trees.
  17. Monica gave him a small, watery grin back before looking out the window. Still shaken and tempted to go back to the bridge, the woman shrugged at the man's question. "Honestly, I don't really know... I don't really have an apartment anymore, so I guess I don't have a place to go." She was inconveniencing him. She knew it. The man was off his shift. He didn't need to take her anywhere. Hell, a park would suffice! She could probably just sit and let the lack of water take her first. Feeling guilty, the young woman voiced her concerns. "I'm sorry for inconveniencing you, Officer Swanner." Monica didn't even know the man's name. Of course, since he called himself Officer Swanner, she had to assume that it was his official title, but after taking her from the bridge, that one last escape, she felt strange not knowing his name.
  18. "Call me Chris. That's what my friends call me." He smiled at her but, then the sudden realization of what she'd said had sunk in. "You haven't got a place, huh? If there are any family or friends that you know of that would take you in, that would be a good place to start. If not....Well....I hate to continually keep bothering you, but the property that my house is on has a guest quarters of sorts that's near the house itself. I wouldn't mind lending it to you for a while. I realize that having just met you, that sounds really fucking creepy." He let out a small chuckle. "But I insist. It's somewhat of a family tradition almost. When I was younger, my grandmother used to tell me stories about how when she was younger and raising my mom, that she would occasionally lend out rooms to strangers who were just passing through. I thought the idea was insane, but now I can see why she did it. She used to tell me that if I had something in abundance that someone needed, I was to share it. Or she'd come out of the grave and get me." He smiled and let out a small chuckle. "You can, of course, refuse the offer. But it wouldn't be a burden to me."
  19. Monica nodded. Chris, that was a good name. He offered his own place for her to stay, calling it a family tradition. The green eyed woman looked a bit surprised before looking away. "I... I wouldn't want to impose... But, if I could stay, I would be grateful." The question lingered in the back of her mind at how she would move around the house. Her wheelchair was long gone, but getting another one shouldn't be too much of a trouble. Thinking for a bit, she realized that she hadn't yet introduced herself. Glancing over at Chris, she cleared her throat. "Monica." She nearly scared herself with how she just stated her own name. "My name is Monica... I just thought you'd like to know..." She felt nervous, a bit scared as she was being driven by Chris.
  20. "I don't mind a bit, and it's nice to meet you, Monica." After a period of somewhat awkward silence, Chris finally broke it with a question that had been bugging him. "So. How exactly did you get up onto the ledge anyway? If you can't walk? I didn't see a wheelchair or anything nearby." Chris let out a yawn, blinking his eyes hard once, then quickly blinking them five times. It was getting pretty late for him, he had been up for about 16 hours, and he was ready to sleep. But, that was his second priority at that moment.