As we drive, I see him, going to stand on the railing, and a familiar pain, an ache of grieving over someone's death, engulfs my being.
And no one even stops.
That's why I believe people are bastards.
"Mom, pull over."
"What, why?"
"Just do it."
She listens, thank the Lord, and pulls off to the side of the road, beyond the bridge. Immediately I jump out and run back to that bridge, to the stranger, the boy about to end his life.
No way in hell was I letting someone die.
He's on the railing now, so I sprint, ignoring the honks and obscenities thrown my way. I pull the boy down by the hem of his shirt, onto the floor, and he stumbles to his knees in surprise.
"What the hell --" he tries to speak, but I don't let him.
I just hug him.
My mom, I know, is surprised, wondering to herself if I knew this boy. I don't.
I imagine the boy's eyes are wide with surprise, and I feel him try to push away but I keep my grip on him. He shudders in my arms once, and then, I feel his arms return the embrace, a tear-stained face on my neck, light sobs in my ear.
I don't know how long we stayed like that, but it was for a while. Slowly, he pulled out of the embrace, and he can't meet my gaze.
"I'm sorry..." his voice cracks. I shake my head, and take both his hands into mine.
"Everyone feels pain," I tell him honestly, smiling just a bit in hopes of reassuring him. "I don't know what kind of hell you're walking through right now, but I promise you, if you jump off this bridge there, I'll be in one myself."
He looks understandably dubious. "You don't even know me."
"I know your in pain, and I know you need to know someone loves you. So let this stranger love you and be your friend."
The boy pauses and gives no response. I sand up and offer him my hand. "C'mon. Let's see if my mom can be convinced to get you some ice cream or something. Ice cream makes everything better."
He laughs a bit and nods, taking my hand and we walk off the bridge back to my waiting mother. The boy gets in the back and I with him. My mom looks confused.
"I just stopped a suicide," I tell her. With simply a nod, we drive and eventually pull into Baskin Robins.
The boy can go home after a treat.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
