Within

Yeah, tonight was going to be the day that I finally jumped. Today hadn’t been a bad day in the light of the rest--but nonetheless, today, I found myself at the end of my path. Breathing was too much, and living was even harder. I was tired of trudging through every single day in hopes that it would get better. It hadn’t. It wouldn’t. Which was why I was here. Here being… The roof of my apartment complex. It was dark and dingy, the air cold and biting. It was only early fall, but the nights got cold enough for a jacket to be necessary. But I didn’t have one--I was still wearing my ratty t-shirt and shorts that I wore to sleep. The wind was weak, but certainly there. Every so often, there would be a gust strong enough to disturb my balance on the railings that surrounded the perimeter of the roof. Would a four story fall kill me? I hoped it would. If it didn’t, I’d just find myself in even more pain than I was now. In any case, I had prepared everything. I put my ID on a keychain and hung it around my neck so that the cops would be able to identify who I was. I had packed up all of my belongings neatly and put them together so that no one else would have to. All was sorted. It was going to work out in the end. There was no one who would really care about my death. I worked at a diner as a waitress, but I never bothered to connect much with the customers or my co-workers. I didn’t have friends. Or family. I was alone. That said, I had never really been consciously upset about the fact that I didn’t have anyone. My life consisted of waking up, eating, working, bathroom, and work. That was all I did. Now I was starting to realize that was probably contributing to the issue that I was facing. I was tired of being me. Being what I was, that is. Inhuman. Sickening. I was sick of being the cause of death for random people that I didn’t know--who I didn’t want to know, either. Everytime I opened my mouth, someone’s death was guaranteed. That was what being a banshee meant. Some banshees were weak and could only scream if someone’s death was nearby. Some, like me, caused their deaths. Everyone had multiple possibilities for their death, and if one of those chances was close and a powerful banshee was nearby, their death would be set in stone when she shrieked. I don’t know why I was this way. Both of my parents had been human, normal. Then, when I was seven, my powers activated for the first time and caused us to get into a terrible crash that ultimately took both their lives. From that point on, my life had been shaky. People around me died, a lot. And I couldn’t control it, no matter how much I wanted to. And I really, truly did. I tried to fight the urge sometimes--others, I just let it happen and felt like a piece of s**t after. So I was also tired of being a piece of s**t. My toes curled around the cold metal, the chill from the air reaching even my bones. Today, it was all going to end. I was going to be free. “So are you going to do it?” a gruff yet apathetic voice questioned. I whipped my head around, nearly breaking it in the process and almost losing my balance. There was a man there--how had I not noticed him before?--smoking a cigarette and scrolling through something on his phone. His expression screamed of boredom; he took a lazy drag from the cigarette before moving his hand back to continue scrolling, his cheek resting on the palm of his other hand. The light from his phone illuminated his face, but from the distance, I couldn’t make out anything. “What?” I managed to stutter. What was with this guy? “I’ve been watching you debate jumping for the past, like,” he glanced at his watch, “thirty or so minutes. So I figured I’d ask.” “I--” The light from the phone switched off, and he slid the object into his back pocket with a sigh. He stopped leaning on the railing and pulled back, standing at his full height. Wow, he was tall. Like, ginormous. Basketball player size. If someone told me that he was almost eight feet tall, I wouldn’t be surprised. Not to mention, he was buff. Not bodybuilder buff; his stature reminded me more of how I pictured warriors of the past. I could easily picture him dressed as a soldier from the ancient empires in one of those movies. Granted, I still couldn’t really make out the rest of his features--it was almost pitch black outside.“Come on,” he said, holding out one of his large hands. “We’ll go get something to eat, and you’ll tell me why you’re thinking about taking the leap.” “What? No.” I turned back around, standing up straighter. “I’m doing it.” “O-kay, then do it.” I didn’t move. With him here, I suddenly was embarrassed. Out of all things, I felt embarrassment. He was judging me, I thought. He probably thought I was stupid. He didn’t think that I was serious. I took in a deep breath. I couldn’t allow myself to die with regrets--meaning that I’d have to put him in his place. “I don’t need you belittling me.” “I’m not,” came his swift answer. “But I don’t think that you really want to kill yourself. You don’t want to die.” I scoffed. What was he, a shrink? “And what makes you say that?” “I arrived thirty minutes ago. But you were clearly here before that. So something’s holding you back from making the decision.” Had that much time really passed? It hardly felt like it. I wrapped my arms around my body, feet clenching even tighter around the metal rails. “I...” “Look, we don’t even have to talk or eat. I just figured that you wanted to let something out. I’ll walk you back down to your apartment and you can wake up another day.” “But I don’t want to.” “You don’t want to die either,” he pointed out. And what did he know about me? Absolutely nothing, that was the answer. I doubted that he even cared anyway. He watched me stand here for thirty plus minutes. Why hadn’t he said anything when he first came out? Instead, he smoked and did whatever he was doing on his phone. “Why do you care now?” “Huh?” “You said you’ve been here for a while, right? Why are you just now saying something?” I stared out at the night sky, still refusing to turn around and face him. “I wasn’t going to let you jump, if that’s what you’re worried about.” “What?” I resisted the urge to laugh. He had been a couple of meters away from me. How was he going to close that distance and stop me from falling? “Trust me,” he started, “I would have caught you.” “Sure.” I exhaled. “You didn’t answer my question.” He drawled, “Right. Sorry. I didn’t think you were ready to talk yet.” I found myself repeating the same phrase, “What?” “You stopped crying. That’s how I knew,” he answered. I had been crying? I reached up and touched my face--sure enough, it was damp from tears. “Oh...” “Are you going to come down?” I felt my eyes start to burn again. What was with this? Why did this guy have to be here right now? Why was he talking to me? He could’ve never said anything and walked away--and I never would have known. His reason for not saying anything before was nothing short of stupid... but it was a reason. Now was I the stupid one? I exhaled shakily, trying to fight back the tears. “I’m feeling pretty sucky,” I told him. “Sucky enough to die today?” “I’m probably not going to make it much longer, even if I don’t kill myself today.” “I think that you can.” “What makes you say that?” I questioned, voice hitching. “You don’t know me.” He responded with, “It’s because I don’t know you that I’m saying that. I don’t know what you’re feeling or going through--can’t say that I understand it either, but if I let you die tonight, I think I’ll be the one who couldn’t live with himself any longer.” I took in his words, trying to digest what he had said. Finally, I spoke, “I’m just kind of... tired.” The world was growing blurrier with each passing second. I was losing the fight against the tears. Why was this happening right now? “Yeah?” “Yeah.” My voice broke and so did my will to stop the tears. The pain was overwhelming, I felt my entire heart cramping and trying to squeeze itself into one singular point. “Ugh,” I groaned, coughing slightly. “I’m tired of hurting people, too.” “Then stop.” “It’s not that easy!” I yelled back at him. Then softer, “I wish it was.” “But isn’t it, though?” I wiped my face furiously. “I mean, no.” I could almost hear him shrug. “If you want it to be hard, then it will be.” “That’s not how it works,” I informed him. What was with this guy’s logic? How did it make sense to him? “You don’t know anything.” “I already told you about that part, didn’t I?” I snorted, wrapping my arms tighter around my body. “Yeah, you did.” He didn’t respond; I had the feeling that he was waiting on me to continue. “What if I can’t stop?” I whispered. “Then I was wrong. Doesn’t mean you have to die.” “I--” He cut me off, “You don’t have to die. You don’t want to either. So why do it?” I looked down, staring down at the smoky black abyss below, unable to see anything in the poor lighting. I didn’t want to die? But I felt like I did. I felt so numb and weak. I was so tired of being me. Was it so bad that I wanted to rest? The tears hurt, scalding my eyes and making the world even murkier. “I--” “I think you just want to be happy. Everyone does--and it’s okay that you’re not happy right now. One day, because you are going to live, you’ll look back at this and feel that much stronger.” I exhaled, tilting my head back and looking at the stars. The thought of me--me, being strong was odd. Strength, both mental and physical, had always eluded me. Could I change? Would I ever be able to control myself? Like he said, would I be happy with myself? “I...” When was the last time that I smiled? It had been a while, that was for sure. But a small part of me wanted to. It didn’t want to give up yet. I had hope. That’s what it was. The concept of “maybe” was... amazing. How had I not seen it before? He was right. What I wanted wasn’t death, but change. Everything suddenly came crashing down at once, all my emotions hitting me like a raging tempest and almost knocking me off balance. “Help me down,” I sobbed, my chest heavy yet light, “help me.” I felt hands gripping my waist, then I was weightless, then I was back. My feet touched against solid ground, far different from the shaky balance I had on the railings. I threw my arms around the stranger without any hesitation, just needing someone to tether me down. He was warm, which was surprising, since it was so cold out. He wrapped his arms around me, stroking my back in a soothing motion. It was comforting. Even though he smelled faintly of tobacco, I didn’t really mind it. His touch was reassuring. I felt like I could be okay. I don’t know how long we sat there. He didn’t say anything, nor did he cease rubbing my back. The heat from his body slowly pushed the cold that had set in my bones and the rest of my body. “Yeah,” he answered. I sniffled, embarrassment creeping back in. “Is the offer for dinner still open?” “Of course.” I nodded my head timidly, swallowing the spit that had welled up in my mouth. “Do you mind if I get changed first?” “Whatever you need,” answered he. “Thank you.” “Yeah,” he repeated; this time, I could hear the smile in his voice. “I used to go to this place all the time,” Arthur--that his name--was saying. “Great food for cheap.” I nodded, not really wanting to bother with small talk. Instead, I focused on the scenery as it flew past. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice of him to do this for me. I was grateful for it. I peered at him through the corners of my eyes, able to make out his features better clearly now. He had a nice jawline--the kind that poets wrote about. The rest of his face didn’t disappoint either. But most notably, Arthur had the most beautiful high cheekbones that I had ever seen; that was the first thing I had noticed about him. The rest of him formed the perfect profile too. It was almost like a drawing. I could see the beautifully drawn line--the bend of his forehead tapered down then swelled out again to follow the straight length of his nose then to curve again his lips that were full and slightly pouty. Yeah, he was pretty nice to look at. I almost felt bad for staring--almost. “The diner,” I started, noticing that a silence had settled. I didn’t like it. I preferred the deep bass of his voice over it. “When was the last time you visited?” “Oh, jeez,” he scratched his head with his free hand, “maybe a year or so. Really has been a while.” “What’s even more surprising is that I’ve never been here,” I remarked as he pulled into the parking lot of Anne’s. It had been less than a ten minute drive from our apartment complex--yet I had never been here. It was almost funny. He laughed a little. “Yeah.” Arthur turned off the car and got out of the car, surprising me when he came over to open my door. “I don’t believe in chivalry,” I informed him warily as I accepted his hand and stepped out of the car. Arthur laughed again, smiling softly but not saying anything in response. I followed him inside, surprised to see that some people were here despite the late hour. “Arthur!” a female voice with a heavy Southern (which was weird, because we lived up North) accent screeched open our entrance. We both turned to see a middle-aged, busty redhead coming towards us. She was wearing this big smile, revealing her bright, white teeth. “I haven’t seen you in forever, boy!” “I know,” he answered, accepting her hug the second she threw her arms around him. It was kind of comedic. She was probably a little over five feet so he stood a good two feet over her. “I’m real, Ivy. You don’t have to hold me so tightly.” “Aww,” she broke away from their hug, “but I missed you.” Ivy turned her brown-eyed gaze to me. “Oh, my. Who’s this pretty young lady?” She nudged Arthur. “New flame?” “You know, men and women can be just friends. This is Camille Walker, my friend.” Friends? We were friends? I glanced at him then realized he was probably saying it for my sake. Right. He wasn’t about to tell this woman he had stopped me from killing myself, like, fifteen minutes ago. “Well, all right, I was just saying.” Ivy huffed haughtily and grabbed two menus. “Come on now, I’ll take you to a booth.” And she did, and we sat. I quietly flicked through the menu while Arthur ordered “the usual”, further cementing the fact that he used to visit her frequently. It seemed like a close knit community here, within this little diner. Ivy was darting around everywhere, chatting up each table and laughing boisterously with them. Everyone knew each other by name... it was weird. We lived on the outskirts of a big city, in a sort of transition area from metropolis to suburbs. But still, we weren’t a small enough community for a place like this to exist. It was... interesting and strange at the same time. “So,” Arthur started, pulling my attention away from the others. “Do you want to talk about it or just... eat?” It. Right, it. I looked down, staring at the scrapes on the wooden table. “I...” “Listen,” he said, noticing my hesitation, “You don’t have to. You don’t owe me anything and I’m not going to force you.” “No, I want to talk,” I assured him. “I’m... I need a moment.” Arthur took a sip of his water and swallowed it slowly. “Take as much time as you need.” In the first place, I didn’t know how to tell him the full story without telling him the full story. I exhaled, finally settling to leave out the most major detail and hope the rest of the story would be able to piece itself together. “I just got tired of living, it was too much for me.” “Why?” His gaze was arresting. Arthur had these intense gunmetal blue eyes; they were striking and nearly impossible to look away from. I got lost in them for a minute, as embarrassing as that was. “I thought you weren’t going to push.” He leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his short hair. “I’m not. You don’t have to tell me.” “Right.” Ivy came then, setting Arthur’s plate of food in front of him. “You decided on what you want, hun?” she questioned me, smiling softly. “I’ll just have a plate of fries,” I informed her, handing her my menu. “All right, will do.” She spun around, walking over to the counter and telling the cook my order. I looked back at Arthur, who was now staring at me while chewing his food thoughtfully. “What?” I snapped, voice coming out sharper than I had intended. He raised a brow, the corners of his full mouth tilting up slightly. “Nothing?” It was definitely something. I ignored him though. Instead, I focused on picking at my already chipped nail polish. “I guess that I just realized there’s no benefit in me staying.” Arthur didn’t say anything, but gestured for me to continue on. “Um.” Shame started to set in. “I don’t really have friends or... family in my life, so I’m kind of just alone, I guess.” My eyes rolled upwards, focusing in on the fluorescent lights that hung over us. “So no one would miss me. I don’t contribute to society, either. I do more harm than good, really.” The lights were starting to burn so I looked back down, quickly burying my face in my hands so he couldn’t see my expression. “So you figured you’d just commit suicide,” Arthur surmised softly. Somehow, when he said that, I felt stupid. I mean, I knew he wasn’t talking down to me--he had been very understanding and kind... except for his behavior when he first talked to me. Anyway, I felt like I was a little kid trying to explain their hissy fit to a mature adult. “Don’t cry,” he said, voice still soft. “It’s all right, okay? It’ll all be okay in the end.” I scoffed, ignoring the prickling tears at my eyes. “I’m not crying.” “You look like it,” he said lightly, tone humorous. This made me laugh a little. A very slight little. “Whatever.” Arthur didn’t say anything else for a while. Ivy came and delivered my fries, so we sat and ate in silence. Despite all that I had been going through not even an hour before, I found myself feeling substantially better. The sadness had dulled, its presence diminished even more with every passing second I spent with Arthur. I looked up from my fries just as Arthur did the same, our eyes meeting and locking. And I think that, in that moment, my heart started beating a little faster.