he sits on the ledge, legs dangling over a void he sees as nothing but an escape,
the tendrils of darkness grasping his soul attempting to drag him forward

clinging to the little sparks left inside he sits frozen, like a statue, an eternity to process the roar of thoughts assaulting his consciousness with a ferocity few could ever hope to withstand

slowly inching forward feeling the solidity of the ledge beneath him slipping away as the darkness wraps him in an embrace of alleviation.

at the very edge he closes his eyes

the flood of thoughts slowing, seeing the ones he loves most, his biggest supporters, all floating to the forefront of his mind, as a warmth he is more than unaccustomed to and one fluid motion he slips back, standing at the ledge, staring back at the darkness still calling to him

he walks away. a hint of a smile tracing the edges of his mouth. he won. he is free. he is alive.