Where Life Takes Me

Chapter 1 // Realization

Every good story starts of extremely exciting. Sorry to disappoint. I guess I've always been the kind of person to enjoy the books that start off soft and gradually grow in action, but hey, that's me. Nobody's the same, sure we all have various things in common, but no two people are exact replicas of one another (besides twins but that isn't the point I'm trying to make here). For instance, most 17 year olds would be out partying this summer, visiting breathtaking sites, getting laid, or having sleepovers; yeah, no. Not me. Here I am driving in the middle of a rainy night on my way back from a local theatre. No, not like a movie theater, but a plays-and-musicals type of theatre. I wasn't actually watching a big performance or anything, I was just watching my friend rehearse for a piano recital coming up; it's better then watching anyone else perform.

Back to the present: I'm currently driving at 40 mph across a very quiet bridge. Sounds like some kind of freaky horror movie, but no, it's nothing like that. I'm in my hometown where nothing bad really happens ("of course, that's what the stupid blonde would say in the horror movie" but I'm serious, this town's a deadbeat, no pun intended). It's funny how people can get attached to places they've been, or haven't been for that matter. I'm attached probably due to the fact that I've lived here all my life. This town isn't very populated, for the most part everybody knows everybody; it also gives off the vibe of comfort and it makes your body relax as though there's nothing to worry about in the entire world. Unless you're me and you happen to be driving across a bridge at 11 o'clock at night. On any other night you'd mind your business and focus on where the bridge meets the street and the sound of the rain pattering against the windshield, but this wasn't any other night partly due to the fact that I spot a person on the bridge.

Normally this would be the usual... in the daylight. People walking up and down the sidewalks that stand on either side of the two-laned bridge, laughing and chatting among themselves. Well, like I said, it's in the middle of a thunderstorm and it is fairly late so the logic of why a person would desire to be in the midst of the mess leaves my mind to draw a blank. Oh, did I mention that this person was dressed in dark-wash jeans and a black hoodie that's pulled up over their head? Again, no, this is not a horror movie. The wheels of my car continue to bump against the wooden planks that the bridge consists of and I never would've planned on stopping. That is until I realize what the person on the side of the bridge is planning on doing. Why it took me so long to realize beats me. You tell me what else a person might want to do with a mysteriously high bridge late at night.

My body reacts faster then my brain can process and soon I notice that my car is flying down the bridge at an incredible pace, quickly approaching the person who was not even less then 200 yards away before, now not even 200 feet away. I slam my foot on the brake, causing myself to cringe because this cannot be easy on my tires. My car jerks forwards and I pull against my seatbelt. I swiftly unbuckle and begin to zipper the jacket I currently had on over my blue v-neck that was hidden beneath. The zipper gets jammed and I groan but force myself to get over it. I shove my door open, making sure that no other vehicles are approaching, and run around to the other side of the car and step onto the sidewalk. Now jogging, I get closer and as I do I notice the person fumbling.

When I'm 30 feet away I begin sprinting, panic taking over my entire body. The dark figure is attempting to swing their foot over the metal bars that prevent people from falling into the rocky water 70 feet below, these bars easily being the height of where my elbow stands in relation to the ground. As soon as a close enough distance has been obtained, I reach out and grab the stranger's hand that's obviously straining under their weight as they try to fling his/herself off of the bridge.

"Stop!" I shout through that pouring rain. I feel the person trying to shake my hand loose. Nice try, bud. I then grab their wrist with both of my hands, tugging against their unsteady position. This person was just at the top of the railing so this could simply turn out one of two ways and I'd much prefer the way where I somehow get this person back on my side safely.