Little Star

• Self help
• Short story
• Drama

								
He wanted to jump.
I could tell by the way he lingered there, staring down.
It took him a while to get there though. He climbed up the fire hatch in a rush like he was running from his conscience. Tripping over his own two feet and catching himself on the ledge. He threw himself away from the edge at that point. Breathing so hard I thought he was going to kill himself with the damn asthma he clearly had. I was going to step in, tell him to go home, to…go to bed, and just wake up the next morning. I was, but I saw him bring his knees to his chest, his head resting on the ledge. He sat there for a while, so lost in his own head he didn't even realize he wasn't alone on this rooftop. After a while he calmed himself. There were no more thoughts behind his puffy eyes, no more contemplating. So he thought.

"Your mind is really set isn't it?" 
He swings his head around so fast he loses his footing, the switch from dazed to alert suffocating the response in his throat. He looked at me like I was an alien. 
"What..?" Is all he could muster.
"Your mind. It's set. Isn't it? On this…out come." I gesture towards the street below.
He looks down at the street dimly lit by the yellow street lights. 
"Yes. I am" he said with the confidence of a small child, a stubborn child, one who’s trying to convince an adult of a lie they don't believe.
"So why wait?" I ask as I light a cigarette. 
He looks confused. 
"…Excuse me?" He took a step down. 
"Well you already made up your mind" I mumble before I let out a puff of smoke into the brisk air. "So why do you stand there waiting for someone to push you?"
"I'm sorry, do you want me to jump?" He takes a couple steps towards me, his voice stuffed with a sarcastic-disbelief. 
"Well, Do you?" I ask as my eyes meet his for the first time. 
"What kind of fucked up question is that?! I'm up here aren't I?!" His voice is louder now.
“So…you're just what? waiting for your legs to give out?” I ask in a ruder tone then I was expecting.
“Wow. Aren't people like you supposed to stop people like me?!” he spits at me with a quiet childlike venom. 
At first it was going to apologize. Apologize for my tone, and the way I was talking to him. Maybe even apologize to myself, for not stopping at Last Call an hour ago. But then I realized what he said.
“People like me?” My voice laced in confusion. 
“You know! The good guys! The ones who see a bad situation and have a stupid monologue about how the world is still great! and make it all about them and in the end ‘They're the Hero’!” His voice was high pitched and dry, filled with annoyance and exhaustion as if he's gone through this before. I wonder how many times he's tried to commit. I wonder how many failed attempts have been chewing on the insides of this young boy. 
Pausing for a moment, I let him breathe. He seems angry, I understand that. Letting out a puff of smoke into the cool air I see the stars are still there.
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
“what? No, why would I?” 
“Because we see them every night.” I say pointing up towards the sky. 
“Are you about to say some dumb shit about how ‘Heaven is looking down on us’”
I roll my eyes at his rude ass remarks, for a kid in utter despair he sure has a lot of fucking attitude.
“No dipshit, I'm talking about the stars” He stops and looks up for a moment, before his eyes meet mine again in confusion.
“Hundreds of the Stars we see right now are dead, Stars are born, they live, they burn, they extinguish. However some are so far away and burned so bright. That only after their death do we see that they were there in the first place.”
“I don't get it”
"Look, there's more stars than we can count, and even with all of those stars we still have names for them, titles, ways to remember what they were and they're of little importance. Some even find themselves in constellations, for by themselves they may have been small, but together they tell a story. They show us a picture of who they were.”
The boy stayed silent. 

“Look, I can't stop you. I don't even know you. But if you do, you will just be another light in the sky going out. A lack of energy to be replaced with something new. And if that's how you want to go out that's fine. But just wait a little longer. Wait till you get a little brighter, a little bolder. Wait until you find yourself in a constellation, a big one. So when you do go all supernova, it lights up the night sky. Rattle the stars when you leave because of the way you lived.” 
My voice choked on the last sentence. I don't know what came over me. I never get emotional, at least not in front of people. Maybe it's because of that empty bottle just a foot away, or that he reminds me of someone. Yah, that's it, a younger version though, an earlier version. The cold air chilled my lungs, the cigarette in my hand burning my fingers.
I watch the boy slide down to the ground once more. His head propped against the ledge as the sound of the bustling street fills the air. He stares at the sky, those confused eyes becoming more and more aware. At first he was crying, then he started laughing. It was a strange laugh, one that caught me off guard, one that made me uncomfortable. It sounded like it hurt his throat, as if he hadn't used it a long time, and that smile on his face outlining the crow's feet by his eyes. 
“Stupid. Fucking. Monologue. How does this shit even work!?” He asked as he continued to laugh.
I smile, almost relieved. Looking over I see him pawing at his eyes, but it was too late. The dam broke and the tears flowed down his face. I turned away and looked towards the sky as I smoked the last of my cigarette. I pretended not to see him cry. 
“So now what?” he asked "how do I find my constellation?” I can tell it was supposed to come out sarcastic but behind it seemed to be a genuine question. Genuine uncertainty. As if he was actually looking towards me for guidance.
“Go home. Go to bed. And wake up the next day”.
“That's your advice?”
“It's not advice, it's a step. Towards a path that you need to decide if you want to walk up.
“Don't you mean walk down?”
“Boy you've been walking down hill so long you hit the basement of rock bottom, it's time to change your compass”
“Okay I deserved that one, but is that really it? I just go home? Forget it even happened?”
“Once you leave this roof is entirely up to you, I could care less” 
There was a brief moment of silence. 
Before he decided to speak again, he stood up and looked down at me. The sun seemed like it started to rise, the stars above us started to fade. 
“Thank you” That's all he said, a whole morning of conversation, bickering, and realization, and it ended in a simple thank you, I didn't even get his name. 

Before I knew it he was gone. He turned away towards the fire hatch on the side of the building. I stood up quickly as I watched him leave. I watched as he exited the alleyway and moved across the street. I saw him pull out his phone, listening to him talk into the distance as his voice drowned in the sound of the early traffic.

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