Notes

Write a note in this area. It's realThe city is much more beautiful when everyone else is asleep.

Because of this, the city is not listening when you need it to.

I stand with my feet on the edge, staring down at every taxi and uber that drive on the streets more than sixty-three stories below me. Their headlights don't seem as bright up here, and the traffic lights they all yield at look like nothing but small, glowing eyes. Two red pair, glaring up at me. Tiny moving demons.

I can hear the screaming inside of me just begging me to jump. It's been, what, how many years of the same repetitive thoughts? I'm tired. I want to think something new other than kill yourself tonight. I want to think nothing at all.

Oh, for my mind to be as silent as this city when the sun goes down. That would be a privilege.

My shoe scrapes against the concrete ledge as I shuffle forward, the soles of my vans hanging over. The only thing keeping me here are the heels of my shoes, really. An invisible string that my ankles push against in a teasing way, threatening to trip over and go front-flipping off the tallest apartment complex in this part of town.

The strange thing is, my eyes are dry. I'm not crying at all, but maybe that's because I'm so used to the despair and horrifying screams that never cease to loop within my empty chamber of a soul. My eyes are dry, and I'm glad. I can see the tailgate lights of cars better when they all come to a stop at every red demon eye of a traffic signal.

"Would you happen to be a physicist?" There's a voice next to me.

The shock alone is enough to make my weakened legs give out beneath me as my shoe slips over the edge, but something catches me. A hand in the back of my shirt pulling me upright again.

"What?" I snap my eyes quickly to the direction of the voice, only met with a soft, glowing face of another man.