Rag

We left through the back door, and went left, rather than the usual right. I tried to start conversations the entire time but it became increasingly clear that Rag had something on his mind. The mid-winter air was cold, and we could see our breathe. Mine grew more and more frequent as I spoke, but Rag’s remained slow. He was slow, and sluggish. That wasn't like him. Rag was quick.

About halfway to the view point we reached a bridge. It was a bridge I had seen and crossed countless times before. One sides, a string of house and the hill down the view point, the other the neighborhood center of West Seattle. Under the bridge was a road that in the gorge it ran looked more like a concrete river. The fall was long down to the bottom.

About halfway on the bridge, Rag stopped. I called out, ‘Rag?’

He looked at me. he put his hand on the railing that ran the right side of the bridge. He put his other hand on and pushed up, pulling himself onto the ledge. His feet found their way on and he stood. His back towards me, face out over the gorge.

‘Rag! Get down you will hurt yourself!’

He looked slightly back at me, ‘Do you ever think about doing it? Killing yourself?’

‘No. I don’t.’ I lied

‘I do. All the time. It sounds kind of nice. Just a complete freedom from everything. From life, and from un-wanted death. A freedom from addiction, and a freedom from the past. Freedom from desire, and place and everything shitty about the world.’

‘It’s also freedom from everything good in the world.’

‘Name on good thing about the world.’ He left me speechless. ‘What if I did it? Right now? What would happen?’

‘Rag please get down! I need you! The world needs you!’

‘No. Neither of those things are true.’

He wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t want this. ‘Rag please don’t do this! What about Chris, or your mom!?’

‘I just don’t like it. I don’t like not being in control. I feel trapped.' he breathed. 'I want to know freedom.' He paused. 'One day you will all know freedom.’ And with that he let himself slide off. It wasn’t graceful. His foot kicked out, and he feel face first, hitting his head on the way down. I screamed out in agony as I watched his body fall. I had stopped by the time I heard, and saw it hit the ground with a grotesque bloody slap.

A car had slammed to a halt when he jumped, and now the driver was rushing towards me. I buried my head in my knees and started crying. Crying harder than I ever had, or ever would. The driver called nine-one-one and was explaining what he had seen. He requested an ambulance but it was too late. I saw Rag’s brain on the pavement.

Rag was the first person I ever knew to die.