I don’t know if it’s a boy or a shadow I keep seeing, but it follows me; to school, to my job, to my house, I can’t escape it. That’s the thing I guess, I don’t want to. That shadow saved my life.
One night in late February early March, I went up the tallest building in my shitty subdivision. But you have to understand, I went up with no intention of coming down, well, alive at least. The air was cold and still that night, hauntingly like it is now. I took a cigarette out of my back jean pocket and lit it with my midnight blue colored lighter. I wanted to take one last drag just to see if it would taste different, if the smoke felt different as it entered my withered lungs. The wind brushed my deep black hair out of my face. As the cigarette grew smaller, so did my courage, but fuck it. I had been dreaming of it for too fucking long not to do it.
So I took my place on the edge of the office supply building, turned around, spread my arms like glowing wings, and leaned backward. As I did, I felt the tips of my toes leave the cemented roof. I felt a hand latch onto mine and explosively pull me out of my submissive state. That’s when I saw him, him in his cotton black zip up hoodie and old worn black skinny jeans. His eyes were so deep the ocean couldn’t fill them. He didn’t look at me, he looked through me. He launched me back onto the roof.
He came close and whispered in my ear, “No, you can’t do this now. I won’t let you.” His voice was so calming. Before I could even contemplate what happened, he was gone. He blended in with the darkness of night. I was left on that rooftop, sobbing.
After that night he started making his appearance known, only to disappear after a blink. I want to say thank you or ask him why he saved me. I will never get the chance because this was two years ago and now he’s gone.
I don’t know where you are or who you are, but thank you. I hope life is treating you well.
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