Enjolras stood, barefoot, by the edge of the bridge, his hands gripped upon the wet railing. The wind whisked through the air with certain viciousness, biting at his hands and the open collar of his neck. The young man felt his entire body go stiff as a shiver of uncertainty crept up his spine. The cold was haunting, and yet somewhat comforting at the same time. The icy wind helped numb the fear…perhaps it would numb the pain. Enjolras had always wondered whether dying was as simple as closing your eyes and counting to ten. After his father had passed away, his mother had simply told him that he'd gone to sleep. It sounded so painless…and somewhat inviting.

As his mind continued to wonder, he gripped ever so tightly onto the rusting copper rail as he pushed himself over to stand upon the stone ledge of the bridge. Climbing over…now that was easy. It was the letting go of the rail that would be the main challenge. Waiting…wondering…

Enjolras stared down into the dying waves that formed in the dark abyss beneath the bridge. He wondered if he'd freeze to death before he drowned…though, if he managed to hit his head on the way down, it might just make the whole process easier. Looking down at the maddening bed of water, Enjolras let himself breathe for a moment and stared up at the pitch black sky, trying to picture it more as flying than falling.

Don't be a coward…this is what you need Enjolras. This is where you belong.

Enjolras felt his grip on the railing loosen by the slightest touch, when an unrecognised voice behind him spoke with a strange calmness.

"Young man, what are you doing up there?" Enjolras turned awkwardly, his hand still gripping the rail. A tall man in a black top-hat and matching coat stood on the other side of the railing. He seemed somewhat familiar, though Enjolras couldn't recall ever meeting a man such as him.

Enjolras turned away, his heart rate increasing either from shock or from pure embarrassment…though, he wasn't sure why he felt embarrassed. "Nothing, sir…"

"Are you sure about that?" the man seemed to keep his cool, though, he eyed Enjolras with a hint of anxiety.

"Please, sir, it's none of your concern." Enjolras was fully aware of how much of a lunatic he must have looked…not that it mattered. "Could you just…"

The man looked him up and down, taking a step closer to him, though, Enjolras hardly noticed. "Is…something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Why don't you step back over the railing, young man…it's unhealthy for you to be spending your time out here it this ghastly weather."

Enjolras felt his hand shake, feeling as though he were moments away from fainting, just from the turn of events. "…I don't think I can sir." He replied under his breath. The man simply stared, unsure of what to say, or what to do. "I'm tired, sir. I simply…can't."

"Tired of what? Surely, being tired doesn't necessarily mean you must end your life." The man spoke, though, trying to keep his voice low, in order to keep control of this situation. Worst case scenario, the young man lets go of the railing, falls to his death, and is never seen again…being a man of God, he couldn't just walk away from this boy without putting up a fight.

"With all due respect sir, you couldn't possibly understand what I'm going through at this moment in my life." Enjolras said, turning his head over his shoulder, though, not looking directly at the man.

"Young man, God did not create us, just so we could end our own lives by jumping off bridges."

"Then why did he create me?" Enjolras asked, louder than intended, though, it allowed him to let off some steam.

There was a moment of silence. Silence so tense that a single sound could have killed it. "Well, I wouldn't know. That's for you to decide, my boy." The man still spoke with such an even tone, even though; Enjolras was about this close to letting his hand slip from the railing.

"…I thought I knew what my purpose in life was…but I was wrong…the truth is that God never intended to make me. I thought I were to become a man who would one day, lead a group of revolutionaries to free the world from the hands of the evil…but it's impossible…and who am I to send men to their deaths? I have no purpose so clearly God made a mistake…"

"God makes no mistakes." He said simply. "Only a fool would believe so…if you truly believe you have no purpose, then you practically insult God's very name…God doesn't want this of you. Please, for the love of our father, just, don't." Enjolras' breathing faltered as the man's words sunk in. Enjolras suddenly came to realisation that he was standing on the edge of a bridge, with nothing but the strength of his arms holding him from falling. His heart jumped at the sudden feeling and held his grip on the railing. For several moments, he just stood and thought. "Would you like a hand?" Enjolras found he was unable to reply, so he merely nodded.

He turned awkwardly from the river, feeling as though he were about to be sick. The man reached a sturdy hand towards him and Enjolras took it, barely able to stand on his own two feet. Gradually, he made his way over the railing where he practically collapsed from shock, fear, pain, regret…and confusion.

TBC