Only She Knew

Emil requested that I post this a long time ago. While it is sorely lacking in, well, good writing, it still never fails to entertain me.


She climbed the ladder slowly, heart beating violently on the walls of her chest. At the top of the rusty metal ladder she paused, quietly catching her breath, wondering if she was doing the right thing. She had been right; he was there, standing at the roof's edge, looking out at the quiet lake. As her eyes adjusted she could make out his form; tall and skinny, with spider-like limbs and a long, bushy mop of hair. Although his back was to her she could see his face clear in her mind; his soft hazel eyes filled today with sadness, soft skin stretched taut over elegant cheekbones, full lips parted exposing his chipped front tooth. Her heart melted as she looked at him, for she loved him. And that was why she was here, why she had come to find him when she heard that he was upset. 'I have to help him,' she thought hazily, stepping off the ladder onto the roof, 'because I love him. I have to be the one to ease his pain.'

He had not yet seen her, and the silence seemed so thick, so sacred, that she was afraid to break it, so she crept quietly across the roof's span. She was close enough to touch him--to hold him, stroke his hair, to tell him everything would be all right. Oh, how she loved him! That was how she had known where he would be, when no one else did. His friends were worried, knowing how upset he was, but only she knew he was here. She loved him so deeply that her instincts were tied to him; she felt his every move. His friends were afraid he would kill himself. Only she knew he would never do it, he would decide it wasn't the answer. That was why she was here; she loved him, and couldn't stand being away knowing he was suffering. And only she knew what to do.

He never saw her as she crept behind him and in one smooth motion pushed him over the edge of the roof. She heard his scream echoing and wondered briefly what was going through his mind as he plummeted toward the approaching pavement: did he think of her? Did he call her name? She would never know. The screams had stopped; he was surely dead.

She descended the ladder quickly, shakily. She had to hurry home to receive the terrible call, informing her that he was dead, that he had jumped off the roof of the Pratt Lane in a moment of despair. But he was so young! so full of life! so beautiful! And she loved him. She left the building, not turning to see the crowd that had already gathered, and tears blinded her as she walked to the bus stop. Only she knew the truth because only she had the answers. The bus came and she boarded it, whizzing off into the night.

11-5-90