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We were standing on top of a very tall building.

He wanted to kill himself. And so did I.

I couldn’t see his face, but all I knew was that he couldn’t die.

So I was trying to reason with him, to talk him out of it. I understood why he wanted to do it, because it would end the pain. His pain, at least… but he wasn’t thinking of his family.

As I argued with him, and tried to talk him out of this irreversible deed, I realized that I could never commit suicide. Just like he shouldn’t.

But as soon as I had this epiphany, he jumped.
So I jumped after him, yelling the whole way down.

I talked faster than I ever have before. I don’t remember what I said, just that I tried my best to make him see that he had to be brave and keep living.

As we fell, the building slowly faded away… in its place were white steel bars that crisscrossed. “Grab on,” I shouted, “and just think about it. You can always let go if you change your mind.”

But he didn’t. He just kept falling.

When I woke up the next morning he was dead.

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