Traffic flew by beneath the freeway exit bridge that Levi stood on. He stood on the sidewalk, leaning over and watching the cars pass, inside of him longing to fall and end up dead beneath one of the unforgiving vehicles.

At the same time, he wanted to live.

He wished he could be healed; every part of Levi wanted to be loved and cherished, but even his girlfriend of two years was growing distant from him. Thinking about how much he hurt and longed to be loved made his head ache, made him long for a knife or a razor to turn the mental pain into physical pain.

Levi closed his eyes, two tears falling, one from each eye. He thought about flying; for a brief second he'd be floating before he was crushed, and then he'd be floating for real, whether it was heaven or Hell he went to, he didn't know, but he wanted to take the leap and find out.

Even if he went to Hell, anywhere was better than his shabby apartment where he spent most nights in the cluttered mess sobbing and panicking over where his worthless life would go.

Levi pushed himself up and swung his feet over the edge of the bridge wall. He was one push away from death, away from the life he hated, maybe one push away from something better.

"It's okay," Levi whispered to himself. "You've been suffering on the ground for way too long. It's time to fly."

He pushed his shaky arms into the cement wall; not hard enough to push him off the edge of the bridge, but enough to bring him closer to the death that he so desired.

"Don't be afraid," Levi told himself, but he was shaking and crying. "You have no one here. Maggie will move on and your coworkers will find a new person. You're replaceable and always do things for other people, so why not do this for yourself?"

Levi stood up on the bridge wall, his legs shaky and heart racing. He wanted this; it would be better. Wouldn't it?

If he just managed to slip, maybe it'd feel better. Because that's what he wanted, right? To fall and to fly, to enter the next part that came after death and feel like he could be okay.

Levi bent his knees, ready to jump, but as he did, he slipped and fell backward. His heart dropped and he screamed, then his back hit the hard pavement and he realized that he was back on the bridge.

His back ached from the impact, and Levi supposed he deserved it for both attempting to die and failing to succeed. He groaned as he pushed himself up, the dull ache in his back showing that he was going to have ugly bruises in the morning. A part of Levi wanted to hate the bruises, but he supposed they couldn't be worse than the ugly cuts all over his arms.

Grabbing his apartment key, which had fallen out of his pack on impact, Levi walked back home, his slow steps resembling those of a zombie. He unlocked his apartment and tears sprung to his eyes as he saw the mess that he left everywhere, his head hurting from the overwhelming, disgusting mess of things.

No matter how hard he tried, Levi couldn't convince himself to clean up. It wasn't that he liked living in a mess, but seeing the mess stressed him out to the point of tears, and all he wanted was to lay down on the ground and sob about the mess that his life had become.

He wasn't always like this, up until he was nine. Levi lived with his mom and dad in a small cottage house in Tennessee, until his dad died of cancer and his mother killed herself out of grief a few months later. It was then that Levi ran away from his past and made it to Cincinnati, only to be found and placed in the system.

Levi lived in several foster families, and while some treated him like he didn't exist, others had older men who would use him. A part of Levi wanted to fight back and defy all odds and prove to himself that he wasn't just a toy to be used, but he couldn't even keep himself from cutting a few times a week.

"Stupid, worthless, piece of trash," Levi cried to himself, pulling his knees to his chest and crying into them. He looked up at the chipped ceiling above, crying out to any god or anyone who was out there. "Why can't you just take me? What do I have to do on this stupid Earth to convince you to kill me while I sleep? If those stupid preachers were right and said that you want all of your children to be happy, why can't you help me and let me die?!"

He kept crying until he reached hyperventilation and couldn't breathe. Terrified, Levi leapt up and ran to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water and taking a sip. It helped him to breathe for a brief second, but his eagerness resulted in the water rushing down the wrong tube and sending him into a coughing fit, in which he spilled the entire glass all over his front.

Levi angrily threw the cup on the floor, stomping off to his bedroom. He wanted to be fixed, but he didn't know how to fix his life. Every piece of him knew he needed help, that someone else could help to fix him, but he didn't have money for therapy, nor did he want to go.

Maybe Maggie could save him.

Levi's eyes lit up at the thought. He'd been saving ten percent of his check for a few years... he'd have plenty of money for an engagement ring! Plus, Maggie was the first to say 'I love you' in their relationship, and even though Levi couldn't find it in himself to say it back, he thought that he loved her too, or at the very least, really liked her.

So, his impulsive mind was made up.

Levi was going to get better.

He was going to propose to his girlfriend and let her help to heal him. Maybe he'd lose the desire to slice his arms and end his miserable life. At the very least, at least he'd have a girlfriend to distract him from the horrible things going on in his mind.

With that last promise in his mind, Levi climbed into his bed, under the gross, tattered sheet and curled up as much as he could to keep in body heat. If all went well, he'd have a fiancée to share body heat with in a bed that would belong to both of them.

Everything would be okay; soon his life would be worth living.