Toward the Stars

TW: References to suicide, mental health issues

Goosebumps trail my skin as I begin my trek upward toward the stars. My bare feet graze the crumbly rock, climbing up the tower. A slight breeze makes the hair on my arms tingle, but for some reason, it doesn’t diminish me.

I have never fantasized about this torturous journey I’m putting myself through until the past month or so. Life reminds me of a clown in a mystery box; it pops out at you when you’re least expecting it. Minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks when it hit me. And now, here I am, lost in the translation of my thoughts.

Nature is the sole piece of life I can appreciate. Stepping up each stair, slate by slate, I’m entranced by my surroundings. Gushes of clear and sparkling aqua flow down by the river, meeting with slick rocks and twigs shredded by their trees. A bridge creates a path of beauty for us humans to appreciate the glistening waves. I’m about to reach the climax of one, ready to give my eyes a gift that is well deserved. 

No one has decided to treat me with a gift, not in my wildest dreams. Years and years have passed since I’ve ever been presented with something special. Not even a bow. Or a box. Instead, I am left with nothing. 

I’ve grown to accept that word. Nothing. It’s how I feel inside; a void of black emptiness. One look and you’ll be sucked into the pit with no escape. Sometimes I don’t know why I let my thoughts keep rambling because they don’t even matter. Not one person has listened to them or taken a single second of life to pay a sliver of attention. Alone. 

That’s how I feel as I take my final leap to the top of the bridge, a lush aurora sky ahead. Swirls of orange and pink sway in the air; a serene calmness breathes into my nostrils. For once, I’m okay to be by myself. I appreciate nature’s benefits the most when I am lost in my own thoughts. 

I stand still, admiring the joy before my eyes. If only someone out there knew why I’m here. Or where I am. But, people continue their days, not a care in the world about me. Even the ones who know I exist. 

He was the reason why I kept going in the first place. Now, though, he’s my last. He made his decision to stop caring. In an instant, a flash. One day, we stare into each other’s crystal blue eyes, deeply entranced by the other’s character. The next… my world is gone. He is gone. 

Everyone has a person. That special someone who radiates happiness. He was that to me; a magical human who turned my dusk into dawn. 

One day, the magic disappeared into thin air. And now, on the stone-cut bridge, the magic is farther away than the naked eye can see. 

I recall the good old days when even the tiniest things would make me happy, like eating an Oreo or watching a cheesy rom-com on my throne of a bed. He and I would wander around stores as I ogled over every trinket I could get my hands on. Or we would go to the movies and share a nice bucket of popcorn, though he would let me have it all. At that time, I felt like my life was complete. Whole. 

But I’m broken and shattered in pieces as I stand on the man-made structure, bits of me falling into the glistening water. My eyes follow as they flow downstream; I can barely see myself anymore. 

I look down at my cracking hands, covered in scar after scar and cut after cut. He used to hold my hands caressingly, providing them warmth and comfort in times of need. Now they’re empty, not even a mother to hold onto. Mom, dad, grandma, aunt. I haven’t seen one of them in a few long years. Everyone gave up on me when I made the controversial choice to drop out of college. I was a ‘lost cause’. Too late to save, too late to change. Nobody has any faith in me or any hope that I’ll be successful in the slightest. Go figure. 

A twig snapping jostles me, making my head twitch to the right. Two people emerge into my sight: an elderly couple walking a frolicking dog with a thick, curly coat. Smiles fill their sun-beamed faces as they enjoy the happiness of life. Something I clearly lack. But that’s why I came to this bridge anyway: to view some sliver of ecstasy. 

All I feel, however, is jealousy of people. Of people who live normal lives. Of the ones who have something to look forward to when they wake from their comforting slumbers. 

I feel the only sense of emotion I have roll down my cheek with salty molecules. One by one, they reproduce and reproduce until it feels like a river flowing down my pale face. The old couple has already passed, not able to see how horrid my face must look. But I let myself go, I let myself silently cry in the sunlight. I don’t care anymore. No bone in my body seems to care. 

My crumbling hands hold onto the stone, separating sea from land. Life and death. Somehow I find the ability to push myself onto the rock, being careful with my sleek footing in case I slip. That would ruin it. The entire event.

I take another long, entranced glance up at the sky to admire the Earth one more time as I stand straight. Skies are still orange and pink, clouds are still swirling in abstract shapes, and trees are still swaying in the breeze. My final tear drifts down my rosy cheek, falling into a crevice on the stone down below. It’ll erode eventually, just like the rest of the humans on our planet. I’ll never see any of them again. I’ll never see anything again. It’s not worth it. 

And just like that, I take my leap toward the stars.