Creative Writing Post

I found this prompt online somewhere. It seemed a good place to start exercising my creative writing skills again.

This took me 3 days to write because tbqh I didn’t know how I save myself. I had to spend a lot of time reflecting before finishing it

Prompt~ Saving myself; you overhear your name on a police radio as a suicide jumper, write how you save yourself from committing suicide.

She’s standing at her end. The roof of the abandoned building seems to be crumbling at her feet. Just like how she feels on the inside, abandoned and broken.

Painfully ironic.

I notice her dark hair whipping around her face, the wind speeds at that height could easily knock her off balance. You could almost see her teeter on the ledge, like she was waiting and willing the wind to carry her away.

“Confirmed identity on the jumper!” I overhear her name on the police radio. My stomach lurches.

The first responders are squabbling amongst themselves; Should they wait for negotiators? Should we call her family? She just needs her medicine! Should we call a doctor? She’s prob just doing it for attention, she won’t REALLY kill herself. She just needs time, she’ll be fine. She will give up and come down, don’t feed her empty threats.

These idiots, nervously glancing upwards every few moments, it changes nothing. She’s still standing there, waiting to end it all.

But the name they referred to her as… I heard what I heard. Didn’t I? It’s impossible, right? Surely I am mistaken, having the same name as me must be coincidence. But the more I stare up at her, the more pain I begin to feel too.

Instinct and adrenaline has me racing into the old building, flying up the desolate stairs with ease. No one questions my sudden surge of authority or even notices my quick ascent to the roof of the building.

No one else will save her.

Pushing on the heavy metal door, I rush into the ironically beautiful sunlight. She hears the loud creak of the door and looks back at me frantically.

Fear. Agony.

Masquera tears are streaked down her face. Wet makeup smudged and melted across her beautiful features.

She looks broken.

The wind beats the hair violently about her face. Her eyes are pained in sadness and fear.

She looks how I feel.

She is me. The shell of the girl I was. I found her.

“It’s too hard!” She wails at me, “it’s too loud in my head! The nightmares will never stop! I don’t want to be in pain anymore…” Her sobs trail off as she glances out over the city, her eyes glazed in tears and sorrow.

“I know…” I whisper, reaching my hand out to her. No dark void to hide her from me any longer, I see her clearly now.

She’s broken and she’s scared. Her weakness gives me strength and I begin to ease my way towards her.

“We are not alone. 一人じゃないよ。” I say, and she can’t help but look back at me and my outreached fingers straining to touch her. “I will save us. We will fight this pain together. We will keep living-”

“How!?” She interrupts me, more tears streaming down her face. She regards me in such unbelievable doubt and disdain, it stings. “The nightmares and pain won’t stop! What’s the point?”

Indeed, that’s the question I still ask myself everyday. What is the point? What are we living for? Why am I still fighting?

“We have to keep fighting…” My voice is cracking but I am determined not to let myself break again. There has to be a part of me that won’t give up. “Fighting for ourselves and for other rape victims! Fight for others who still can’t find their voice. We will keep fighting for other survivors and most importantly we will keep fighting for the ones who love us.” I’ve got her attention, my attention. I can see a glimmer of hope in her hazel eyes.

“I know you are impatient, but we will be happy again! I refuse to give up, I refuse to let that man kill me from the inside out. I will tell our story, and even though I will cry and be angry, I will heal. We will heal.”

“I want to heal…” She whimpers, I watch as she begins to reach for me. “I don’t want it to hurt anymore.”

I sigh and lift my hand so we are mere inches apart. “It’s going to hurt for awhile longer. But we are not alone.” I remind her and she exhales.

She stumbles forward and falls into my waiting embrace, disappearing within my body.

Tears stream down my face. I may have saved myself from giving up, but the road will still be painful.

I’m not alone. I have the love for myself back again.

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