The Silence That Followed
"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move," I say, encouraging my dear friend to step back. The howling wind is hungrily urging me to take a tiny step and let gravity do the rest. In my mind I can clearly see the whole scene play out. The small gasp the crowd would let out, the shock. And then the sudden motion as everybody would rush forward as fast as they can. And after that, it would be silence. The rich kind of silence that seems to fill an invisible void. And my dear friend, perhaps my only one, would stand beside me. But it would not be me, no. It would be a body, a vessel that held my mind, and thoughts, and emotions. Or at least the emotions I had mustered to stir up in my days. This vessel, this fragile last piece of me would soon turn cold, the warmth meant for the living reluctant to leave. But leave it would, for that is what happens. It leaves. As do people, friends, words and thoughts. In the end, silence comes and lays claim to all. Even to the greatest of minds.
Would he believe me if I had time to tell him why this was necessitate?
I can hear him speaking. His body merely a prick in the distance, but his voice loud and clear and filled with suppressed panic.
"This phone call – it's, er… it's my note. It's what people do, don't they – leave a note?" I say blatantly.
I abhor myself for what I'm doing to him. This man enabled me to live again. Took the deteriorating pieces of me, and managed to make a man from what was only a shell. He made me a man I wanted to be. A man I still want to be. A man I tried to be. And finally, a man I could not be. To divulge myself in this final seconds would be a blessing, a relief. To break the man that had done so much for me would shatter, not only him.
"Leave a note when?" I hear him ask, flustered, out of breath. Just like the day we met. Then he wore a complacent smile, now he is fearing.
"Goodbye John," I say and throws away the phone, careful not to accidently damage it. I can hear him screaming as I spread my arms. And I still hear him scream as I fall. And then comes the silence, and I appreciate the moment of peace it gives to me.