When I was 7-years-old, my mom gave birth to my little sister. Me and my dad went to visit her in the hospital to check out the new family member. As 7-year-olds often do, I got bored, so my parents sent me to the kiosk right outside the main building to get an ice cream. As I was walking towards the kiosk, I cut over the lawn as it was a shorter walk, suddenly I feel and hear a really heavy thud right behind me.
I turn around too see the warped mangled body of a man in a hospital gown maybe 40-50 cm from where I was standing. The man had jumped off the hospital roof after receiving news he had terminal cancer. My mom and a lot of the others in the birth ward even saw the guy flying past the windows. The guy basically just fell short of killing me with him. A group of doctors and psychiatrists asked me to get emergency therapy, but I insisted on getting my ice cream and go home.
This day I can still recall the thud of the body hitting the ground and his body lying the next to me, clear as crystal. I still tell this story sometimes, mostly when I'm drunk or high. I dont know why it comes up, but I think shit stuck with me.
