Author's Note:: I wrote "Pride" because I know EXACTLY what this feels like. Alot of people don't realize how hard it is when you're one of those students that get good grades and take Honors or AP classes because once you show you have potential everyone expects it to ALWAYS be this way. No matter what toll it may take upon you. I write this in dedication to all those who were pushed to that limit and to all those yet to come:: take a lesson from Even's story. My story.
Even's toes inched forward until they kissed the ledge. Far below the hamlet bustled with the busy priorities of everyday life. He could make it all stand still, he had the power to freeze time if only for the briefest moments. Shock the people below so badly their lives hung suspended in virtual time. Eager winds pulled at his clothes urging him to take that final step coaxing him into the eternal rest away from stress and pain and humiliation. How easy it would be to end it all and escape this meaningless rat race. What would the meaning of this all be in the end? As all men do he would eventually wither and fade and everything he'd leaned, these archives of information crammed into his brain would be for naught.
He was tired of being the good student, the one always expected to achieve greatness and told that taking it easy upon himself was no option. There was no room for error or slack, he had to push and push and push himself even when he could bear it no longer. Honors, AP, IB, he'd done it all. It was expected of him to be the one that excelled and achieved, regardless of the toll it took upon his frail body and mind. At times like this, inching centimeters closer to the void, he despised his intelligence. He just couldn't take this hell anymore. The breeze brushed his mouth tempting him ever closer to its waiting arms. So many had given their lives to this wind crashing their hopes and dreams on the rocks below. Sweet sanctuary, release, freedom, demanded the greatest sacrifice.
Resolve set, the academic rode the thinnest line, reaching out to carress the empty air. A terrified clamor rose from below, people gathering to stare anxiously at the volatile child perched upon the seawall ledge. He would be the third suicide this year. Looking back over his shoulder, Even stared down into the inscrutable pool of faces and in each of those eyes he found they sucked away bits of his will until he was devoid of any desire. The stubborn pride returned and forced him back away from the hungry waves. Slumping down he held his head in his hands silently cursing the sin of pride. He was far too proud to kill himself, suicide was the coward's method. There were moments he could sympathize with the ideaology but in the end preservation reigned truest. There were too many people that would mourn him and he could not bear to subject his loved ones to that. Undoubtedly, his beloved would get wind of this and refuse to part from his side but it suited Even just fine. Some affection was most definitely needed right now.
Rising, he took the stairs down to the hamlet past all the gaping faces and walked the road back to his home. Back to his friends and family and the comfort he sought within.
