JUMP
Jump. He could, and no one would even notice until Christmas, even then would they really notice.
‘Dads skipped Christmas again, typical’ is all he imagines his children saying as they sit down to dinner.
‘Do I really want to be that dad? The dad who kills himself just before Christmas.’
Standing on the walkway of Manhattan bridge, he leans on the railing, admiring the shining lights of New York reflecting on the water below like dancing fireflies. He closes his eyes and sighs, letting out a woft of cold winter's breath, attempting to block out the noise of the traffic and nightlife surrounding him as if he was a deer caught in headlights.
*
Samuel didn’t have a bad life, to others at least. He lived in downtown New York, Lower Manhattan. He had an apartment, a well paying job and a black chihuahua named Bruno, who was his best friend.
He didn’t hate his job, but he didn’t particularly like it either. Working 7:00am to 6:00pm as a pharmacist, was tiring. Yet he had regulars, who always managed to make his day, somewhat worth-while. Until something bad in the East were to happen, being a Sikh in America was not easy, Samuel was mistaken for a Muslim nearly every day because of his headdress and when something Muslim orientated happened, all eyes were on him. He had learnt to ignore this in daily life, but it didn’t make it much easier.
‘That’s horrible’, ‘oh what a shame’ were the usual comments, there was even one time where someone had the audacity to say, ‘hope that isn’t one of your relatives.’
He forgave them. Of course, he had to, it was his job to give them drugs and that’s all he would do, even if they did not deserve them.
At least the end of the day would come, he could go home, make his dinner and then go out for his nightly walk with Bruno.
This was the best part of his day, his only hobby was photography. ‘Less people, more lights’ he would say to Bruno as they would walk across Manhattan bridge. Thoughts would fill his head, like a swarm of bees it stung until he stopped. Breathed, and at least, thought of jumping off at that very moment. Only then would the stinging go away.
Samuel knew he couldn’t jump, he couldn’t do that to Bruno, or his daughters, even though he knew they wouldn’t care if he did.
Elise and Poppy, 16 and 14. He thought about them everyday, everytime he walked along that bridge, and wondered, ‘would they really care.’ To them, all he is, is a shit dad, who only visits them on Christmas and Birthdays. Yet they don’t know the reason, they never knew the reason. The only one that did was their mother, Emily. But then, Samuel knew the truth had been twisted in her mind, to form the truth that his daughters knew.
This broke him. On a daily basis, whenever one of their names came to his mind, his heart snapped even more, which he knew could not be possible.
Yet Christmas was nearly here, Samuel would get to see his children again, even though they were growing up so quickly it seemed they did not want him around for much longer.
Last Christmas he had got so drunk he cried in front of them, in which Emily kicked him out in a second, with the help of her new boyfriend James. Bruno paddled along behind him, he could stay and steal the food but he would rather make sure his friend is okay, in which they both walk home alone on Christmas.
Sure this year could be different, but he doubted it. His kids have grown up now, no doubt they have asked why their parents split up and no doubt they have found out the lies in which Emily was willing to spill.
The year before last Emily texted Samuel on Christmas morning telling him not to come because his children don’t want him there, yet, when it came to Elise’s birthday the following March, she got so upset, she screamed at him to leave because he had ‘skipped Christmas’. He could never skip Christmas, but he would never attempt to turn his daughter against his mother, so he told them that something had come up in work, resulting in him having to skip Christmas.
As upset as they were, they had forgiven him enough by Poppy’s birthday in August, to allow him to come to Christmas the next year, the year he cried.
All Samuel could do this year is work, work up until Christmas eve, in which he would still open his shop at 7:00am and wait all day to close, only with no one to step foot in. It’s Christmas eve, anyone that needs anything would have picked it up in advance to avoid the Christmas rush. But what else did he have to do? He had to distract himself in some way or another.
The day went slow, slower than any usual day at work would go, this gave him plenty of time to think about what he was going to do later on in the evening and even for Christmas tomorrow. He could easily just stay at home and binge watch all of his favourite television shows.
Christmas sucked, a lot more than everyday life did, he had never thought of himself as depressed, but he knew this is what is must have been. Of course, being around drugs everyday really managed to put him off, so any sort of antidepressants were out of the question, yet suicide was on his mind daily.
Plus, pills would give his ex-fiancé another reason to forbid him from seeing his own children, something he could not bare to do to them. His mind was in a constant loop of life and death.
His work day was over now, it had turned 4:00pm and no one had showed up, no one was going to. He grabbed his coat and closed his shop early for the day.
Walking home, he had a lot of time to contemplate his life and what he was going to do. Home was not far, and the usually busy streets of New York were empty, he arrived home, quicker than he would on a usual, busy day. Entering his apartment building, he climbed the stairs, taking as much time as he could. He faffed around searching his pocket for his key, and on the other side of the door you could hear Bruno scratching at the carpet, the desperation to see his friend.
Samuel managed to open the door without hitting Bruno, as he jumped up and down with joy. Taking off his coat, he made his way to his chair, located in the corner of the room. He placed the coat down on the back of it, sat down and leaned back, as though ready to go into a deep sleep. Bruno jumped onto his lap and curled up as though he knew his friend needed a rest.
Samuel sat there, dreaming of his farewells as though he could just take off and do as he pleased.
He leapt out of his chair all of a sudden, making Bruno fall to the floor with a thud. Speeding across the room to where a printer was sat on top of a cabinet, the draws below filled with pens, of which he grabbed one, snatching up paper from the printer, he turned again and ran across the room to his dining room table, which was as clean as it could possibly be.
He began to scribble, at first, it seemed as though he was just writing a letter to his sister. Yet he wasn’t.
Samuel spent five minutes writing two pages worth of a letter in which he folded up into an envelope. Picking up his coat again, he gathered all of the cash he had hidden around the house. A tin in the food cupboard, a tub in the fridge, in a pillow on the sofa, in a draw in his bedroom. From all of this he gathered $400, which he stuffed into his wallet along all the other money he had, and left his house, taking Bruno with him.
The first place to go was the bank, down the street, which was still open for another half hour. Stepping inside Samuel took out all of the money he had in savings, and left, knowing exactly where he wanted to go in a short amount of time. It was ticking on 7:00pm, as Samuel arrived at a homeless shelter. It looked busy so Samuel navigated a member of staff as quickly as he could. Finding a young intern, he handed her an envelope in which he had filled with all his savings, ‘for the shelter’ he said. Then telling her not to open it until he had left.
He left. Heading to his family's house, Samuel knew they would not be home until 9:00pm, and it was only 8:30pm. There stood a tree outside their house, in which Samuel knelt down and tied Bruno up to, placing his house and car keys in the envelope, which he left just behind Bruno in plain sight.
He placed his hand under Bruno’s chin as though Bruno knew what was happening, he licked Samuels chin, to which Samuel kissed his head. ‘Goodbye my friend.’ Samuel stood, and walked away with a tear in his eye.
The Manhattan bridge was filled with cars, but the footpath was as empty as could be. It was lonely to be there without Bruno, Samuel thought, but it was something he had to do. He leaned on the railing, admiring the glowing lights of New York on the water for one last time.
He places his hands on the railing and pulls himself over, standing on the slight bit of ledge on the other side, he sighs, and jumps.