A Slurred Plea That Will Get Me Nowhere

Kaitlynn Kelly

She stands on the roof of a building, looking off of the edge. Small, ant-like objects with headlights buzz around below her. “Surely jumping halfway down is better than not jumping at all,” she quietly says to herself. Now, don’t get me wrong. She’s not suicidal….
She just wants to fly.
And I know how she feels. I say in my head “This is not the way,” but she’s miles away and can’t hear my pleading.
And so, with one loud, gasping breath, she jumps. Her eyes shut as tightly as they can, and for the longest 10 seconds of her life, she is free. She is who she wants to be.
She is flying.
When she crashes into the pavement of the street below her, I’ll be ready. I’ll go to her broken body and know that she is happy. I’ll know that her death is really a celebration of life that we cannot see due to overwhelming anxiety in our own lives.
Our judgment is clouded, and we cannot see more than the bare facts.
Her blood will stain the cement, and she will be inspiring. She will be beautiful.