France, Abbeville.
It was a moonless night, a very, very cold, moonless night. And he didn't mind it at all.
The sky was clear, but he didn't look at it..he couldn't look at it. It was the idea of finding some comfort in the far endless darkness above that scared him. Because he might back off, might change his mind, or worse; change his prospective of the world.
So he looked down instead, at the dark cold water. The reason for his death in less than ten minutes maximum. He just have to make the jump.
Or run tow steps back and let a speeding truck keand the content of his skull on the asphalt.
He didn't make his mind yet.
But the waiting was meaningless, nothing would change, not him, not the world, so he should just do it and get it over with.
He emptied his pockets, not feeling very good about ruining his good fo nothing phone, or the last ten Euro bill, there should be a starving homeless guy around here who could use them. Such a good heart he has.
And he couldn't help but laugh for a short moment at the idea..a good heart ha! So far from the truth.
He debated whether or not to take his shoes off, but decided it would be too obvious.. almost pathetic, and he wanted to at least not leave anymore of his patheticness behind.
The sky was dark, the street lights were far apart, the bridge was deserted, and no traffic cameras were where he was standing, couldn't get any better.
It was when he held the guardrail that he heard the nearing steps.
And at this time of the night It was odd, especially with the fact that almost no one ever crosses a bridge by foot. and it was so quite that it actually made him fear that one person whoever they were. The one crossing a deserted bridge at sometime way long after midnight.
But his fear wasn't necessary, or it looked like it was unnecessary when he finally saw who it was.
A really tall man, probably over 185centimetres, his slim body covered in black from head to toe. Black coat, black cargo pants, black half boots, and a very, very dark hair.
The man looked like he didn't see him at first, then when he was a meter away he came to a halt.
It was so quite, so uncomfortable, and for a second, he thought this was a signal from the devil, he should do it now. But the stranger there didn't help, he almost felt shameful that someone catched him in this absolutely vulnerable situation.
The stranger took a look at the phone and the bill under it thrown aside, then lifted his eyes to him, and after a long agonizing silent, the stranger came closer, standing with his elbows rested on the guardrail a good meter away from him.
Now it's ruined. The man thought to himself while the stranger beside him lit a black weird looking cigarette and took a long drag, puffing the smoke into the clear cold air of the night. And for a short moment, he thought it was fascinating.. Although he couldn't see much under the dim light, but he could see enough.
The stranger curls was so wavey, glinting somehow, an indication for how soft it will be to the touch. He's skin was paler than it normally should for any healthy guy, and his sharp straight nose had a reddish tip from the cold. The stream of the gray smoke coming from the gap between his absolutely beatifuly bink lips didn't help so much as to keep his eyes off them. He definitely didn't have any idea that he can be so gay! And few minutes away from his death too!
Not cool, stranger!
The awkward silence was cut short when the stranger turned to him. And he needed a second to snap out of his daze. how sharp that man looked! the sharpness of his eyes was almost cruel, the colour of the iris is so cold, a very light shade of liquid silver, so clear that he believes he can see his reflection on them!
"Not going to do it?"
His voice! Oh dear, his voice!
How someone can be so...mesmerising! Even when he looked so cold and distant, like he isn't here in some sense of the word.
It was still painful, deadly so, but for these two minutes, he forgot. Just for a short while..he forgot it all. The betrayal, the death, the bankruption, the desppointment, the depression. He just forgot.
Funny how easy it is to suddenly feel attached, just when there is nothing seprating you from your death except a guardrail and a stranger man.
It was a Pathetic prank of his mind, a desperate need to stay, even if there is nothing left to stay for. And he was a little bit smarter than to fall for it.
"Not Gonna stop me?"
He asked in a low voice and with half a smile, feeling a little amusement because of this odd stranger who crosses bridges by foot and stops to smoke a cigarette and ask a suicidal man if he's gonna jump or not.
But the answer came colder than he was wishing for. Not sure why it was even disappointing, but it was.
"Not particularly interested to do so, just a little curious."
"Curious why someone would commit suicide?"
That was getting interesting by the seconds, and he wouldn't mind a two minutes Conversation with some weird guy before he dies.
The stranger stayed quite for a moment, his eyes fixed on the glowing edge of his cigarette as if it helds all the answers he ever wanted.
"More like of the death itself."
Funny.
"What's your name?"
This time it took him awhile to answer that, puffing another load of smoke towards the darkness above before he casted him a short glance, voide of any amount of interest.
"Ellian."
Oh, Ellian? Ellian..Ellia!
"You are the Mr.E aren't you! Wow..funny meeting you here and now!"
The last word was directed mostly to his Ironically cruel stream of luck. To meet one of the best and most famous actors America ever had here and now was undoubtedly one of his fuckedup luck's best strikes.
"your new movie trailer seems interesting, sad to say that I won't be able to watch it."
"Don't mind it, you won't be missing much."
And he knew that. He won't be missing much, and not much would be missing him. But it stungs, hearing the nonchalant in his voice, the disinterest as if he was another bug dying out in the cold, no one gives a fuck about it..it *Hurts*.
So yeah, he was almost sad that no one cared, and the only one who was Present in this moment actually encouraged him to jump..or was more interested in his death in general.
"Don't call the police, I don't want to be found."
He told the man, Ellian M.J, the only witness who doesn't care that he is the only witness. And heaved himself over the guardrail, sitting on the rounded top with his legs dangling in the air.
"You do realise that you will eventually float, right?"
That was Ellian's only response.
He took a deep breath, a really deep one, until his lungs expanded to there full capacity. The cold air was mingled with the aroma of the smoke, and somehow smelling it made him a little less lonely..it was an indication that someone was here, with him in his very last minute.
"I don't want to be identified."
And with a final look at the last face he ever saw, a final stare at the absolutely magnificent iris, he let go.
Ellian stayed Stoic through it all, he saw the fallen body, the loud splash when he hit the water, and when he never surfaced again.
He inhaled the last breath out of his cigarette and tossed it out, watching the last bit of the red glow fades before it hit the water. And with a last glance at the calm river beneath, he left.
****
