7 years, 3 months, 14 days.
That’s how long it had taken him to make the decision.
That’s how long it had been since his first kill.
He could still remember it. The shock in the man’s face as he watched his own blood pouring from his own body from the wound in his chest where the seemingly harmless boy’s knife was.
He recalled the horror that he had felt at killing a human being. And at age ten, no less. But then, he also remembered feeling the satisfaction at walking away with his life and all of the money that had been on the man, which had been about three hundred dollars.
He sighed, feeling guilty of the memory. Slowly, he walked up to the edge of the building he was standing on. He glanced down at the cars that looked like toys and the people who looked like ants below him. But then his gaze shot back up to settle on the building that was across the street from his. The height was dizzying.
A ruckus on the streets below caused his eyes to drag down once more to where a female and male hero were fighting an abnormal.
If everyone was focused on the fight, no one would notice him as he grounded. No one would see the 17-year-old boy jumping from the roof of a ten-story building.
He chuckled. Washed up at 17. Why did his life have to be this way? Why was it so horrible? He laughed again, louder this time, more maniacal.
His wavy, chestnut brown hair, in need of a trim, ruffled in the wind as he craned his neck and looked up at the sky. It was so beautiful. Fluffy white clouds. Perfect crystal blue. He didn’t deserve the beauty. He frowned and looked forward again. The fight on the streets looked almost over. If he was going to jump in that time, then he had to do it now.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and closed his eyes. He stuck his hands out to the sides so he was standing in a ‘T’ position. He shifted his weight forward. Then he was weightless. It was an interesting feeling. His stomach tickled and he put hope in the fact that he would go out relatively peacefully. At least for him. Not for the people below.
Then he stopped.
He didn’t know for sure because his eyes were closed, but he could feel it. So he opened his left eye a crack. Then he was falling again, headfirst. His forehead smacked the pavement with a sickening crack. The last thing his tired brain registered was a girl’s voice yelling something.
Then, everything went black.
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