Broken- And Fixed Again- (A Jamilton Fanfic)

Chapter 17: Who's To Blame?

//TW: swearing, self-harm, suicidal thoughts\\

Suicide prevention hotline: 800-273-8255

Remember guys you are loved and cared about and the world would be a whole lot emptier without you in it. I love each and everyone of you, and if you ever need somebody to talk to, i'm always here.

Thomas

The lights of the city twinkled in the water below like a swath of bright, neon stars looking down on me. Stars that hummed with the steady progress of the future. Stars that had become cruel, unforgiving, invasive. Blinding yellow stars serving only to remind me just how alone I was, peering through me and laughing at the broken shell, the empty corpse, that they found in place of what had once been glorious.

The wind ruffled through my hair, the biting chill pricking into my face and digging past the single layer of clothes I wore. But a numbness seeped through me, leaving nothing in its wake. No trace of pain. And for once, I couldn't have been more grateful to just not feel.

Behind me, cars whizzed past, unbothered by the boy sitting right on the edge of the bridge, caught in a complicated dance that risked life and threatened death. It would have been so easy to just tip over the side, to fall. I wondered if it would feel like flying, however brief. The cars didn't stop and I didn't care, grateful that strangers didn't have to see me cry. Pity was the single most humiliating thing in the world and I didn't think I could afford to let just another thing feed the fires raging inside of me, licking up all they could.

It was too much. It was always too much.

The bridge was tall enough for me to die upon hitting the water. There would be no struggling with the current, no sudden change of heart as the river dragged me under its depth. There would be no explaining this to anybody else afterwards. If I plunged forwards I would cease to exist and that would be it. The world would be better off, missing a piece that didn't quite fit.

My fingers gripped the sides of the bridge tighter, and that cowardly worm deep inside of me begged me to scoot a little further away.

Just a few more inches backwards. Please.

Night had fully taken over a sky that had been streaked with purples and pinks when I had left Alexander, almost three hours prior. But even in the night, the city never slept. There was no relief. There was no privacy. The rest of the world was free to pry in on what could very well be my final moments. The lights kept up with their advances, constantly creeping in.

I didn't cry.

Although the memory of those tears still clung to my face, their paths fresh and unforgotten, I didn't cry. I don't think I was capable of it, in the moment. All there was was me and the river below and cold, hard truths. No feelings. No pain. Nothing.

Alexander's voice never left my head, which was undoubtedly the cruelest joke of the entire night. I could still feel his warmth against my cheeks, his fingers gently caressing my face as he attempted to fix something that could simply not be fixed.

I stared down at my lap, watching the way my legs dangled over the side into free, empty air.

I did not blame Alexander.