The night was a void, swallowing everything but the roar of the storm. Thunder growled low, a beast stalking the horizon. Rain fell in relentless sheets, each drop a cold slap against the earth, building a rhythm that drowned out the world.
"Why me?" The words slipped from his lips, barely audible, lost in the wind's howl. "What did I do to deserve this?"
A boy stood alone, his thin frame trembling on the jagged outcrop of a cliff. His thoughts churned, a chaotic spiral of pain and confusion. The rain soaked through his worn hoodie, plastering it to his skin, but he didn't care. He felt nothing—nothing but the weight of years spent invisible, unwanted, broken.
Lightning tore across the sky, a fleeting scar of light. For a moment, it illuminated him: a seventeen-year-old boy, hair matted to his forehead, eyes hollow as they stared down at the town below. Once, those lights had meant home—family dinners, laughter, a bedroom with posters on the walls. Now, they were just pinpricks in the dark, mocking him with memories of a life that no longer belonged to him.
"They never cared," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Not when I begged for help. Not when I was bleeding."
His fingers curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. The pain was sharp, grounding, a reminder that he was still here—still human, despite everything. He wanted to hold onto that feeling, to cling to something real before it slipped away.
The storm screamed around him, but it couldn't silence the voice that cut through the chaos. A voice he knew too well, dripping with venom.
"Go on, Akira. Do it. Jump." The words echoed from memory, as clear as if the bully stood beside him now, smirking. "You think anyone will miss you? If you survive, maybe we'll back off. But if you chicken out…"
The voice lowered, a cruel promise. "We'll make sure you wish you'd jumped."
Akira's breath hitched. He glanced down at the abyss below, where the rocks waited like jagged teeth. "Survive? From this height?" He laughed, a bitter, broken sound. "They just want me gone. Maybe… maybe they're right."
His fists tightened, knuckles whitening under the strain. The idea of freedom—of an end to the torment—felt so close, so tangible. One step, and it would all stop. The insults, the shoves, the laughter that followed him down every hallway. The nights spent staring at the ceiling, wondering why he wasn't enough.
"At least it'll be over," he murmured. "At least I'll be free."
His vision blurred, tears mixing with the rain. He swayed, the wind tugging at him like an impatient hand. For a fleeting moment, the weight on his chest lifted, replaced by a strange, fragile calm. Freedom wasn't in the town below, or in the people who'd turned their backs. It was here, in this single, irreversible choice.
With a shuddering breath, Akira let go. His body tipped forward, instinct overriding doubt, and he plummeted off the edge. The wind roared, clawing at him as the ground rushed up, a blur of shadow and stone. His heart pounded, a frantic drumbeat in his ears.
"This is it," he thought, the words sharp and final. "This is the end."
He closed his eyes, letting the rain wash over him one last time. There was no fear, only a bitter relief, like a wound finally allowed to bleed out. The world faded, the storm's fury softening to a distant hum.
Time stretched, each second an eternity. His mind flickered with fragments—his mother's smile before she left, the dog he'd loved as a kid, the sketchbook he'd hidden from the world. Then, nothing. Just silence, heavy and absolute.
The impact came like a thunderclap. Pain exploded through him, a white-hot surge that shattered his bones and tore the air from his lungs. His body screamed, ribs snapping, limbs crumpling against the unyielding earth. He tried to gasp, but the agony was too much, a tidal wave drowning every sense.
Then, something shifted. The pain dulled, replaced by a cold, creeping darkness. His vision dissolved, leaving only a faint, distorted sound—like a whisper he couldn't grasp, echoing inside his skull.
The world went quiet. No rain. No thunder. No breath. Just a stillness so deep it felt like the universe had stopped.
And then, a pulse. A low, resonant hum, like the heartbeat of something vast and unseen, stirring in the void.