IMPORTANT This story includes themes of self harm. If you are having those thoughts, you need to exit this story right now and seek counseling with a professional.

Opening

The cold bit at him, but he didn't notice. It was a winter's night, and Farkle stared out on the city his balcony overlooked. His parents were gone for the night, and wouldn't be back until early morning. Hundreds of thoughts swirled around in his head, and he couldn't keep any of them straight. Only one thing mattered tonight. Only one thing had mattered for a while now, but he alone knew that.

Somewhere out there, there were people having fun. Somewhere families were gathered around playing games, and somewhere else they were sitting down to dinner and talking about their days. People were loved and they were surrounded by people that they loved, too. None of those places included the balcony Farkle was perched on. Here the empty penthouse whistled hollowly with the wind as it came through the open door. Here the night was shouting its silence to anyone that would listen.

For days he had drifted through the routine of a boy he barely remembered, alone in the crowds of people he once knew. Their faces had meant something to him before, and some of them even had names. Now they were empty and left only shells of their former sentiments to linger with him. They would look at him strangely, and pretend they were concerned. No one was, though. No one could be.

Now ghosts invaded his thoughts from times that had passed. Times when there was happiness in the world and his friends had been all that mattered. Things were simpler then. There was comfort in the way that life rarely changed, in the steadiness of good grades and the security of good friends. Everything was going right, and life was looking better than it ever had. But that was before the car crash. That was before everything had turned upside down and the ground raced to fall away at his feet.

Somewhere kids were laughing. Somewhere there was dancing and music, and life was a festival celebrating itself. Here life mocked the fallen and downtrodden, and danced over their ashes in the fire that burned in his heart. He let his mind drift back to that night in the hospital.

"The situation looks grim," the doctor had said. The odds were unbeatable. One in one hundred cases would enter with injuries like that and live to tell the tale. One in one hundred people would join hands with their family and friends and the world would be right again. Turns out she was second in line.

He began to climb onto the railing.

"Farkle? What are you doing? Come down from there," came the voice of Lucas Friar. What was he doing here? This did not involve him. "You've been acting different lately, and I'm worried about you."

"That's all you have to say? That you're worried about me? She died, Lucas. A car went flying down the road at 90 miles per hour and killed her, and all you've got to say is you're worried about me?"

"I didn't know what else to say. No one knew what to say. I know you've been going through things I can't imagine, but I just don't have the words to make any of this better. Nothing I can say can make this better."

"Anything would've been better than pretending it didn't happen."

Silence stuck in the air for what seemed like an eternity. He didn't climb down from the railing, and he didn't plan to. There was only one way off of this balcony.

"I'm sorry, Farkle. But this...whatever this is...it isn't the answer."

"You could never understand," Farkle began, "what it feels like to have someone that important ripped out of your life." He looked at the ground 27 stories beneath him.

"Farkle, she isn't down there. I don't know what you think is, but I promise you she isn't."

"You don't know that." Tears ran down his cheeks. His pulse quickened, but he was still steady. He knew what he had to do.

"Farkle, think very, very carefully about what you do next."

He hadn't realized how close he'd gotten to the edge. Still staring at the ground, he trembled a little. The weight of what he was doing hadn't fully hit him yet.

"I need to do this."

"No, Farkle, you don't. Just come down here and talk to me. We just buried Smackle, don't make us bury you, too."

He stood on the edge deciding what to do. The decision seemed impossible to make.

After a long silence, he finally spoke. "Ok. I'll come down."

Lucas helped lift him off of the railing and back onto the balcony floor. His heart was racing from the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Lucas hugged him with a brother's heart and held him until the trembling subsided a little.

"Lucas," he pleaded, through uncontrollable sobs, "what did I just do?"

"It's ok, buddy. I'm here now." And things did seem ok. But there was nothing that could stop what Farkle had set his mind on. Life just wasn't that kind.

"Hey, let's go get you some water," Lucas suggested. "You've had a long day."

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice right now."

They made their way to the kitchen. Unwilling to let Farkle out of his sight, Lucas walked behind him. He had a lot to think about after what he just saw.

Farkle was still trembling when they got to the kitchen, and Lucas decided it would be best if he got the water for him.

Farkle watched as his best friend crossed the kitchen and poured a glass of cold water for him. There were two more like him in Farkle's life, and tonight he had to hurt them all in ways unimaginable to those who haven't been through it. The sorrow he felt then cannot be described in words on a page; in that moment, he died for the second time.

Flashbacks to the night in the hospital raced through his mind.

"She's in critical condition, but we're doing everything we can to save her," the doctor reassured. The seatbelt coupling had snapped and sent her through the windshield and over the roof of the car responsible for the accident. Even if she had survived, she would never have been the same.

Lucas was putting ice in the glass of water he'd gotten. Farkle took one last look at his friend, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. Sensing that he did not have much time left, he made a run for the railing. He couldn't outrun Lucas, but he knew the layout of the penthouse far better. He reached the balcony before Lucas ever turned around.

He stood at the railing for a moment - just a few seconds - for one last chance to take in the city before him. It really was a beautiful place, in its own way.

He mounted the railing and froze. His vision was blurred by tears and memories of the hospital.

"FARKLE!" Lucas screamed as he sprinted towards the balcony. There was nothing he could do, though. It was already too late.

Farkle perched himself on the edge and prepared to jump. And then the doctor was the only thing he could hear. "I'm sorry, son. She's gone."

The cold bit at him, but he didn't notice.