He stood, coat flapping in the wind. Palms sweating, stomach churning, his mind a mess. On the 12th story of the building, seemingly miles away from the pavement he stood. Hopeless. Nothing to live for and ready to jump. Noone would miss him. A man devoid of hope is but merely the shell of a man. You see, hope is the driving force that keeps us going through the dark in the firm belief there will be light and comfort at the end of the darkness. And without hope, what could possibly keep a man trudging through the collective difficulties which is life? It’s a rhetorical question because the answer is nothing. Without hope – man has nothing to live for.
He was alone, Peter. No wife and kids. No white picket fence around a neat cosy family home. Nothing but loneliness. He had a brother but the were estranged. That was about the only family he had left, if you can call it that. They were more strangers than family. He didn’t even know where his brother was or what he was doing. Peter’s mind drifted there, and he saw his brother living the life. Kids, running around playing while his wife prepared dinner and he sat on what Peter presumed to be his favourite couch, dog at feet and watching television. A couple of cars parked in the driveway. Happiness. That is what it all equates to. Happiness. That which Peter had lacked for as long as he could remember. The wind blew, a strong gust. Nearly knocking him from the edge of the balcony on which he stood. His heart raced and he closed his eyes for a while. Just breathing and listening to the wind howling around him. Scorning him. Mocking him. Encouraging him to jump. He tightened his grip on the ledge, knuckles turning white. He would count to three and jump. One. Two.
He was the oldest of the 2 boys who were orphaned in their early teens when their parents were cruelly taken from them at the drunken hands of their father behind the wheel of a car after a wedding he and their mother had attended. Till this day he was bitter. He had never dealt with his emotions, unlike Erin – who sought counseling and seemed to cope with the tragic loss in a much better way than his brother. Drifting through school Peter found himself working the night shift as a security guard at a mall. The hours were long, but he had noone to be at home with anyway. He could never maintain relationships, with friends or potential suitors, and eventually gave up on a whole and kept to himself. His brother, 3 years his junior and having obtained help with dealing with the trauma, managed successfully to engage with people and establish friendships – even having a couple of girlfriends throughout their schooling career together. Since parting ways after school, Erin had gone to university and was now working for a printing company not far from Peter’s house. Both boys had been good looking, from youth and even now in adulthood. Very similar facial features, differing only in their body structure and hair colour. Erin being smaller and having a more muscular build than the tall and lanky Peter.
Peter had paused on the count of 2. He looked around him at the darkness that engulfed the city at the late hour in which he was attempting suicide. There was something strangely peaceful and calming about the darkness and quiet. Peter imaging death must be equally as dark and quiet – and therefore would be of comfort. He looked down at the street, ready for the fall. The lights in the distance bright in the darkness. His mouth ran dry. He could not swallow. His palms had begun sweating more profusely, and a sweat covered his brow too. He was scared and nervous, but ready. He closed his eyes once more and took one last, deep breath. As he prepared to jump, his cellphone rang in his trousers pocket. Deciding to answer his phone for the last time, he maintained his grip on the railing and reached into his pants and extracted his phone.
Erin. The back light from the mobile phone seared his eyes as they had since grown accustomed to the darkness.
“Hello” ,Peter said. Almost asking rather than saying it.
“Pete, you there?” came the reply.
It was Erin for sure. Even after all this time of not speaking his brother’s voice rung distinguished in his ear. Still Peter could not believe it.
“Erin. Is that you?” Peter asked apprehensively.
“I missed you man. And I just couldn’t sleep for some reason. You kept popping into my head for some reason. It’s crazy huh? How you doing brother?” Erin asked sheepishly.
“I’m. I’m, uh, hanging in there. And you?”
And with that the brothers connected again. After years of not speaking, everything felt the same. It was as though they were in grade school again talking about video games and comics. They spoke for a while when suddenly Erin said something that made Peter shiver more than the cold bite of the wind ever could.
“I need you man. I need my big brother back in my life. I miss you.”
Peter felt a tear well up in his duct, and felt the drop stream down his face as the breeze hit his face. Crying felt good. It was as if the tears were cleansing him from the inside.
“I miss you too bro” Peter finally managed to choke out.
“We should make a plan soon Pete. Let me know when you’re free. Maybe we can grab a coffee or something”.
“That would be nice.” Peter said. “I’d like that.”
“Okay bro, I’ll see you soon then. It just felt good to hear your voice again. I needed it. Sleep well big brother.” Erin said with a teasing tone.
“You have no idea. Sleep well kiddo” Peter returned. And with that, the line went dead. As dead as Peter would have been that very night.
He slid his phone back into his pocket and took yet another deep breath. Carefully, he stepped back over onto the safe side of the balcony and his legs immediately gave out on him. He lay on the cold floor, weeping like a child. Purging himself of everything he had been feeling on the inside. Erin had claimed he needed Peter. He had no idea just how much Peter needed him. Needed anyone. And Erin would never realise how a simple phone call saved his brother’s life. The sun began to rise in the distance. The light at the end of the darkness.
Hope.
Alex Hickey
dailyflapjack 