The Fall

         I don't remember much about the days before my fall, but then again, there wasn't much to remember. Depression doesn't usually lead to many exciting memories. A lot of wall/ceiling/eyelid watching I think. I do remember the pain, vividly. If I allow myself to, I can still feel that empty ache in my chest. How utterly exhausting it was just rolling out of bed, getting in my car and driving to that bridge.

         I don't know why I chose that bridge or even why I chose a bridge at all. There are obviously quicker, less terrifying and less painful ways to end a life, but a bridge over water is just so poetic. Jumping out into life and realizing that life is not going to support me the way it has for billions of others. Instead, I'd been tossed in the group that life abandons, ignores, snubs, or at least that's the way I felt at the time. Falling through the air, trying to grab hold of anything but nothing is there. Finally crashing into the depths of depression. The pain is overbearing and the utter sense of hopelessness takes over as I sink further down and drown in my own pathetic sorrows. As with all living things, death is the end. I chose that bridge, I suppose, because of the symbolism and I think because subconsciously I knew the fall wasn't high enough. Deep down, I didn't really want to die.

         I remember standing, looking over the rail, into the waters and admiring the beauty of it all. The slow-moving water was nearly black and dimly reflected the street lights above. Shakily, I climbed to the top of the rail and stood there for a few moments, letting the fear subside into a reserved calm. I closed my eyes and exhaled a sigh of release as I leaned out into the open air in front of me.

The milliseconds it took for my feet to disconnect from the railing seemed to last forever.

The cool night air softly rushed past me.

It was all so tranquil, that is until I crashed hard into the surface of the water.

And then I sank.

The shock and pain of the suicide dive momentarily immobilized me. The shock started to wear off first and with that came the realization, I'm not dead. I could tell I was injured, my right arm probably broken and useless but I was certainly not dead.

         My eyes popped open under the water as I also realized I felt more alive than I have in the past few months, years, maybe ever! Right as I started to struggle for the surface for my first breath in this new life, a pair of arms wrapped tightly around me from behind. So ecstatic I was in my newly discovered desire to live that I relaxed, allowing my savior to propel me to safety. There was a pause, and then a searing pain on the right side of my neck, like something had bit me. I started to panic. Using my left hand, I tried to push away whatever aquatic creature that was trying to foil my rescue. But it wasn't scales, of the fishy or reptilian nature that my hand ran into, it was hair, attached to what could only be a human shaped head and face. The mouth of which was firmly attached to my neck.

The arms of my assumed savior tightened their hold, crushing the little air out of my lungs. I tried to fight it, to inhale even at the risk of inhaling river water. Movement was becoming so difficult. My anti-savior still attached to my neck, and the already midnight-watery-dim world was getting dimmer. The last thing I could see was a small puff of blood drift away in the current which finally triggered my last thought, A vampire? A mermaid vampire? Thank you, Life, for this last piece of luck. A creature that shouldn't even exist kills me right as I decide to... Everything went black.