The Monroe Party (II)
Ruby's POV
I ran!
I couldn't stop. I wouldn't stop.
The tears wouldn't stop pouring down my face.
I tightened my grip on the hem of my dress, holding it up so I wouldn't fall. My tears blurred my vision and I was on the verge of falling apart.
It was over. And I had lost everything. Everything I fought hard for. The one thing that mattered the most to me.
My life was over. And I was going to end it.
I came to a halt when I got to the middle of the bridge, taking a minute to calm my breathing. I drew in a few shaky breaths and then looked around. This was it.
The world had nothing to offer anymore. I took a deep breath as I pulled off my shoes one after the other. I climbed over to the other side of the bridge, holding on to the railing for support. I drew in a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what I was about to do.
There was no going back now. I closed my eyes, feeling another tear drop roll down my cheek. My breath quickened.
I was ready.
I slowly eased my grip on the railing when-
"Stop!"
I gasped.
"Stop!" The figure drew closer. I exhaled. Just the last thing I needed.
A wannabe hero.
"You don't want to do this." He said slowly. "However bad things are, you jump off that bridge, there's no going back."
So, he wasn't exactly a hero.
"There'd be no one to save you. You- will- die" he emphasized on "will."
Asshole!
I took in another deep breath.
"But if you um, if you consider coming over here, I'm sure we can work something out."
I released my left hand from the railing.
"I-If you consider coming over we-" He paused, sudden panic rising in his voice. "We would figure something out. I-I can-" He paused. "I can help."
So he did have a heart
"I can help." He drew closer. "I can help you."
"You know nothing about my life." My voice broke. I felt another tear drop roll down my cheek.
"I'm a fast learner." He stretched his hand towards me. "Don't do this." His eyes were almost begging. I swallowed. "Don't - "he paused." Don't do this. I'm sure there's another way." He continued. I could see him clearly now. His light brown skin shone in the moonlight. He looked about my age. I was seventeen. His deep brown eyes were staring at me, hoping I'd accept the hand he had given to me. My gaze would have gone further if I didn't spot the headlight from an approaching car. I looked at his outstretched hand, his slim brown palm urging me to grab on to it.
He must have it easy.
I faked a smile.
"Who are you?"
"That's not-" He started.
"Your name-" I paused. "What's your name?"
He was quiet for some seconds.
"Jason Monroe."
"Jason Monroe." I repeated after him. "I'm sorry, Jase."
I really was.
"No!"
I jumped.
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