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It was quiet. Unusual for a city as big as this. It felt almost like a last peace offering before he’d succumb to sleep. His body had grown tired, and his usually cheerful demeanour faded piece by piece with each new task and flaw added to his body. He had been feeling unhappy for a while. It used to be different, he remembered. The little boy he once was used to be so happy and energetic, used to love the world and the crowds of people he could be put in awe by his childish behaviour.
Then he grew up.
Growing up was a difficult task. He had to mature fast, had to leave everything behind as he was thrown into the world of adulthood. Too early had he been forced to take on tasks too difficult for his childlike mind. His family had pushed and pushed to get rid of the childish wonders he possessed. Not for long was he allowed the belief of fairy tales, of stories made up to ease the minds of younglings.
Barely a teenager and already looking for work, worrying about how to pay the bills himself when he’d grow up and live alone. Early on it was made clear he wouldn’t stay for long. None of them did.
It was what the world was built for. Young minds could only stay young for so long, and even then, he hadn’t even begun to compare. His maturity had to happen quickly. He was big, and tall and he needed to protect his family, be there for them, and help. He needed to be a source they could trust, his purpose to be fulfilled for as long as they needed until he’d grow into a purpose of his own and start a new life.
He looked down at himself. His long limbs and his slim body, his naked chest staring back at him. He had gotten rid of his jacket a while ago, somewhere along his path to the bridge he stood on. The walk hadn’t been difficult, a path he had taken several times in his life. This location had been chosen carefully, too many memories held here for it to be forgotten or disregarded.
Despite having his chest bared, the cold night air hitting against it, he wasn’t freezing. He felt almost warm, a feeling he couldn’t get rid of but welcomed with open arms. Comforting.
What a typical way to go, he thought, yet he climbed over the fence and leaned back against it anyway. A bridge built over a beautiful river, a childhood memory he had clung to every step of the way. Tonight it would help him let go.
The view was truly beautiful this time of day. The sky was darkened, the moon shining down into the river running straight through the city. He had always been a fan of it. Had loved coming here to admire it, even as a young boy.
The little boy used to love sitting down on this bridge. He used to cross his legs as he stared down at the water, at the ducks that gathered there and made it their home. People passing never minded the little boy admiring the water, they cooed and watched with smiles on their faces.
It felt like a joke. If he were to sit here now, in the broad daylight where anyone could see, passersby would look at him in disgust. They’d judge and they’d whisper. He was a grown man, a worker. He wasn’t supposed to sit and do nothing, to do something so childish. If he had a free day, he should use it to prepare for work the next day. If he was on holiday, he should spend time with his children. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want any children, that he didn’t have anyone to have them with, or that he wasn’t even that old. If you were grown, you had expectations to fulfil. Work, earn money, pay the bills, start a family, and grow old.
Never had he felt so alone as the times he had to walk across this bridge, look down at the spot the little boy used to sit, and keep his eyes away to keep walking.
Right now he didn’t feel any of that. It felt almost comforting, looking down at the river one last time. Lately, he hasn’t been feeling as alone as usual. There was a feeling of warmth spread around him like a blanket on a winter's night.
It has sent comfort through his body in the times he needed it most and had acted as a sort of shield against the harm of the world. The little boy had laughed in his mind, cheerful sounds as he celebrated in relief. The little boy has been tired for a while. His limbs had grown heavy and his eyes had lost their spark. The little boy didn’t like this feeling and protested as much as he could, but in the end, he knew there was nothing he could do. Because the little boy was hidden.
He looked down at his hand and watched it shape into a fist as his gaze turned to the water. The feeling was with him, surrounded him as it sent encouragement through him. He didn’t need to be afraid. Didn’t need to be frightened that it would fail or that he was doing the wrong thing. This path was one he had chosen himself, his first choice in ages. He felt almost freed, and wasn’t that just so exciting?
With a smile on his face, he closed his eyes. His hands let go of the barricades and he let himself fly, down into the river he oh so loved. Reunited with the waves that had claimed him long ago, that would send him into a better time and a better place, would free him from the chains society has locked him in.
The little boy had never felt so alive.