Oh, dear; we are in a bind, now aren't we?
I've decided to write a little story...this is for one of my close friends and his girlfriend...so if you're reading be nice, please! :D
Pain radiated through me.
I just repeated my basic vital information in my head. Name; David Wynn. Marital status; single. Pets; none. Children; none. Age; 22. Cause of death; suicide.
I repeated the same basic phrases endlessly in my head, walking up the hospital stairs to the roof. I looked sad enough to be visiting a dead relative, and I had the same loathing of life as if I were, and most nurses sent sweet smiles in my direction, all forced and painted on. I didn't smile back or even give recognition. I just stared at the floor.
A gentle touch on my shoulder almost made me jump out of my skin. I whirled, ready to give whoever it was a good piece of my mind. But I was shocked by the angel standing before me. She was in plain nurse garb, with her hair tied back. She had laughing eyes and a sweet, tender smile. I glanced at the name tag. Anderson. I would have to remember that. She bent slightly, giving me a worried look.
"Do you need some help? Through those stairs," she said, gesturing down my former path, "is the roof. I don't advise you go up there. It's awfully windy; and if you should fall over the edge, I could never forgive myself, being the last person to really see you."
I couldn't breathe. Here stood a woman of the most beautiful variety, throwing me a lifeline. The lifeline. I finally caught my breath and flushed in embarassment. Her eyes sparkled and she flashed her crooked, kind smile, and I knew, all at once, that I couldn't do it. I couldn't jump.
--End of Prologue--
