Things Will Get Better

I hadn't meant for it to happen like this.

It wasn’t my fault that I had been brought up on the 'happily ever after' notion. It wasn’t my fault that my only comfort was reading book after book after book, where things definitely do go wrong, but everything turns out right. It wasn’t my fault that reality couldn’t help but being less than my expectations.

None of it was my fault. I fell in love with fictional characters falling in love, with the expectation that it would happen to me someday. That, someday, I’d have my own 'happily ever after'. But that was all bullshit, shoved down my throat by people who make a living out of raising people’s expectations and then watching them be cut down like trees.

Everything that had led me here wasn’t my fault, up until I was actually standing here. Now, anything I do is completely my fault.

I was deathly afraid of heights. My friends and I used to talk about silly things like how we wanted to die, if we could choose. I’m afraid of heights, so not that. The helplessness of drowning, feeling the air being crushed out of your lungs, wasn’t my cup of tea either. If I absolutely had to choose a way to die, I thought it’d be best with a gun to the head. Quick. Easy. Painless.

Not like this.

If I hadn’t been surrounded on all sides, every point of exit blocked, I never would’ve even gone up to the roof. The only reason I did was because of them. It was all their faults, not mine. I didn’t choose this. I didn’t want this.

Standing here, sobbing in the cool night air, was the most alive I’d felt in months. The concrete was freezing cold beneath my feet; I hadn’t bothered to put shoes on. I was wearing a random graphic tee out of my closet and comfortable shorts.

“Leah, you don’t have to do this,” a voice pleaded with me. “I can help you.”

I turned to look at who was speaking, but tears were clouding my vision. “C-C-Can you m-make them re-eal?” I asked, hyperventilating.

“Make who real?”

I tucked my hair behind my ear, turning back towards the open air and peering down at the street far below. “The people in here,” I whispered, pointing to my head.

“Leah…” they said, and I heard the sound of gravel crunching underfoot.

I whirled around, almost losing my footing and toppling over anyway. “Do-Don’t come any closer! Stay back!”

They kept moving forward. “You don’t want to do this, Leah. I can help you.”

"You already said that!" I screeched at them. "And that’s a lie! You can’t! You just want to ‘save’ me so you can feel like a hero! Well, you know what?"

They crept towards me a bit more. "What?"

I took a deep breath, my resolve deepening. "Screw you," I declared, glaring at him with every ounce of fury I could muster.

And then I jumped.

It wasn’t anything like I’d imagined it, not at all. I always figured I’d be so afraid of hitting the ground, all that pain, that the entire way down I would be plagued with anxiety and fear. But that wasn’t the case. Instead, I was filled with adrenaline. The wind rushed past me, numbing every feeling I had. I couldn’t hear anything past its roar, couldn’t open my eyes for the pain of it driving into my face.

In the end, it wasn’t the ground that did me in. I lost consciousness about ten feet away, and never woke up.