force of paranoia part 1.

Four years ago I was told I had something called paranoia. I don't believe it; of course they would tell me that, they wanted me to believe it. But I knew and still know that it was another lie, another lie to control me. And so here I stand, on the edge of the building. The day is October ninth, two thousand-nine. No one knows I'm here. No one cares. I am here to jump; to end it for good. One daring leap is all it takes to escape the hatred of this cruel world... I'm about to take that leap.

Why must they hate me? I think as I walk to the ledge and begin to estimate the distance down. It was while I was doing this that, in my confusion, I neglected to notice the thing that saved me; a window washing platform nearly seven feet down. After that all I remember is the jump; with the last of my strength, after the climb up there, I crouched down and pushed off the hard concrete with my arms and legs propelling myself through the air before I fell. I fell the seven feet to the platform and hit with a hard crack, the crack wasn't me though; it was the poor man that I landed on. Turns out his skull cracked open, I realized this as I watched his now bloody body fall off the platform and hit the ground below. I judged the distance to be about 38 feet, enough distance from the ground so the man died instantly; but close enough to where I had to watch in dismay. I had made that man fall... and watched him die.

My heart pounded, my pulse raced, every nerve in my body ached from what I had just witnessed; it was like a double shot of caffeine had been injected into my brain. In a frantic flurry of motion I scrambled to my feet, knowing the police would be here at any minute. I saw no way out, I was trapped; I knew that if I could get the platform to the ground I could run but I had no idea how to operate it, and even if I did that would mean dropping it on the dead mans body. As I looked around, all I could think about was my lack of any means of escape. In an explosion of anger I threw my fists against the window, causing a slight crack, and that's when it dawned on me.... I stood back, looking at the window; I knew it was my only choice if I wanted to escape. My body was weak from my climb and jump, and the adrenalin rush that came from the death of the man was fading away faster than I could believe, but I brought together every ounce of my very energy to throw myself against the window shoulder first; it took three direct hits before it broke completely, the shards of deadly glass flying into the empty office. I knew only two things at that moment; the first was that the window was gone, and the second was that I needed to run.