The Sidewalk
Looking down at the old cracked sidewalk, he wondered why he was here. Why he chose this path. This path that lead to almost certain death. Maybe by instilling doubt into his reasons, he could convince his inner demon to let him walk away. Walk away from this selfish senseless act. But the more he thought about it, the more he was reminded of his reason. The more he became secure in the pains of his past which brought upon this sickening desire.
All the days he spent alone that curiously never bothered him until he knew the feeling of companionship. The ache of being left behind, to walk out of his house and know that it didn't matter if he were late, because there was no one waiting. To be alone is nothing compared to the horror and confusion of being disowned. To be thrown away by the very people who once cared, or at least pretended to. Maybe they pretended because, somewhere inside, they wanted to care, or maybe it was due to an overwhelming pity they felt when they always saw him alone and one day, they realized he wasn't worth the disappearance of that pity. Yet he couldn't help feeling guilty for leaving the people that weren't there. For abandoning the friends he didn't have. And in that, he found his purpose.
So he took that walk down the steps of that tall building. An eternity seemed to pass until he finally reached the sidewalk and fell back into the lines of reality. The lines meant to keep everyone safe. Or maybe they just made them unaware. Unknowing. Unprepared. All of a sudden, that sidewalk felt so small. So restricting. Like an obligatory boundary he couldn't escape that him forced him into a mold he didn't want. Shaping him into the idea of normal. A normal man walking to work. Oh how disappointed they would be when they saw the truth.