AT THE EDGE

Huh? How’d I get here? Mary looked around, but everything around her seemed to be out of focus. Her head felt woozy and like it was being spilt open. How did I get up here? She thought. In a distance, she saw a blurry image of a person.

Mary shook her head, but the sharp pain run through her head, reminding her of its presence. She tried to get up and quickly dropped back to the ground like a bag of potatoes. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and tried to calm herself.

When she opened her eyes, she could see relatively clear. Mary turned her head to the direction of the person she had seen earlier. It was a man. And he was standing at the edge of the rooftop. She looked around, a cold wind brushing the surface of her skin as her curly hair blew backwards.

Her focus returned to the man standing at the edge. He was wearing a black plain T-shirt and blacked faded jeans. He seemed to be looking down at the cars moving below on the road. What is he doing? Feeling her energy coming back, Mary lifted herself up, using the wall she was leaning against for support.

Her legs were shaking but she managed to gain control. “Hey!” she shouted, starling the man who swiftly turned to face her. He had a long cut across his right eye, Mary wondered if he could see with that eye. His skin was pale and tears were rolling down his cheeks. Mary begun to move closer but the man stepped back, and this time he was at the very edge.

Mary paused on her tracks, clearly something was not right. She opened her mouth to say something but froze when the man smiled. His eyes were locked on Mary’s. It was like as if he was saying goodbye without saying a word. Sensing what was coming next, Mary rushed towards the man “no! Wait!”, but he fell backwards...

Mary shot up from her bed, like she had just returned from the dead. Her breathing was laboured and her pyjamas were sticking on her body. She held her hands to her chest. It was just a dream, breathing in slowly to compose herself. Strange, she thought. What was that just now?

Sun rays were piercing through her curtains. She moved towards her window and opened it. She loved the feeling of the morning sun against her skin. She closed her eyes and took it all in, but the image of the man’s face in her dream flashed in her mind. Alarmed, she quickly opened her eyes. I need a shower.

Mary decided to go to a nearby café for coffee. She had a lot of deadlines to meet and so she came along with her laptop. Lately, she had been occupied with her online classes with the upcoming exams occupying most her mind. She opened her emails and begun looking through them.

A waiter came to her table, but she was so cooked up in sorting her emails that she didn’t notice the waiter standing next to her table. “Um, excuse ma’am” a calm manly voice spoke, getting Mary’s attention.

“Oh, sorry” Mary giggled lightly. When she looked up to the waiter, her jaw dropped. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand. The waiter twitched his eyes wondering if the lady was shocked by the big cut across his eye.

“I get that a lot” said the waiter in a sarcastic tone.

“Um sorry…” realizing she had offended him “I um…where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh, just go down straight and turn to your right.”

Mary rose up “thank you” and moved past the waiter. He watched her as she disappeared down the hall and shook his head. Am I that scary? Letting out a sigh.

Mary splashed water on her face. It is him. It is definitely him, the man in my dream. Oh God, am I dreaming again? What’s going on? She looked herself in the mirror and slapped her cheeks hard with both hands. She was clearly awake.

She returned to her table and looked at the waiter from a distance as he served another table and disappeared to the kitchen. He later reappeared talking to another waiter. Mary couldn’t make out what they were saying but she got a hint that he was leaving. I guess his shift is over.

Mary decided to follow the waiter as he left the café. She quickly packed her laptop in her bag and followed the waiter out, keeping some distance. She noticed that he had changed his clothes, wearing the same black T-shirt and black jeans she had seen in her dream.

He walked amongst a crowd of people and Mary struggled to keep up with him. He stopped to cross the road and then disappeared at a nearby alley. Mary reached the alley but she could see him anymore. Where has he disappeared to now?

Mary held her waist. What is the meaning of all this? Why am I even following him? She turned to walk back when all of a sudden she felt a sharp pain on the back of her head. Then, all of a sudden, everything turned black.

Mary opened her eyes slowly, blinking twice in the process. There was a ringing sound going through her head as she sat upright. “Ah gosh this hurts.” She looked around and instantly recognized where she was. “Oh God no!” Mary could hear the beat of her heart as she saw the waiter standing at the edge of the building rooftop.

He turned and looked at her “oh you’re awake now?” Mary slowly got up, leaning against the wall for support. She still felt the knife stabbing pains in her head as she stood upright. “Sorry about hitting you, but you followed me and I thought you were…” the waiter thought for a second “…a spy or an agent, something like that.”

“Why’d you follow me anyway?” Mary lifted her right hand and held her head.

“This is going to sound crazy but I saw you in my dream this morning…” she looked at the man in the eyes to see if there was any reaction “…you were standing right there.” The waiter remained silent, looking straight at Mary.

“You were wearing those same clothes and…” she looked down “and you fell”

Still there was no reaction from the waiter. He remained standing still like an unmoveable rock.

“What’s your name?” the waiter finally spoke.

“Mary.”

“Well Mary, am Paul. And whatever it is…” Paul moved his hands round “I was…planning to” Paul spoke while facing down, embarrassed to look at Mary. He took in a deep breath before continuing. “It hasn’t been easy and I’m tired, tired and frustrated and…” Paul realized his voice was raising. “I just want it all to end” he said in a calm tone.

“I can’t even to begin to imagine what you are going through” Mary slowly approached Paul “but suicide isn’t the solution. Think about those that care about you, how they’d feel if you were gone.”

Paul turned his head sideways, but he kept looking down.

“I lost my mother seventeen years ago, she committed suicide. I miss her a lot. I blamed always myself for what she did. My mum struggled to provide for me, take care of me until it was too much for her.” Mary wiped away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. She looked at Paul. His eyes were wet too.

“It would really be a selfish thing for you to do if you were to jump. We all struggle through life, some harder than the others, but…we can’t let these things bring us down. We can’t let them win.”

Paul looked up at Mary. His eyes had become red. “I didn’t think much about anybody. Oh God!” he sat down “I’ve been cooked up in myself I forgot about those around me.” Mary moved closer to Paul. She sat next to him, her right hand gently rubbing his back.

She wanted to say something but decided not to. It was strange how she felt connected to him. Maybe her experience being a victim made her have that dream. She didn’t want anyone else to go through what she had gone through. Losing someone was hard enough, but losing someone to suicide was even harder.

For now she was glad that she had prevented another person from going through what she went.