Paying no attention to the voices, he gazed below at the afternoon sun glistening off the distant water. He found it unbearable and tilted his head upwards towards the cloudless sky. Sunshine had always depressed him and it was no different on this particular day. He wanted it to rain, in the worst of ways. But he didn't control the heavens, regardless of what the voice told him.
Jump and you'll make rain! the voice said, now changing its tact. Rainmaker man, that's what you are - plunge in and make it fucking rain! He looked despondently at the helicopters. Why do they have helicopters for this, he thought. Somewhere there must be murder, rape, robbery, and of all sorts of stuff going down. Why were they so concerned about him standing on the edge of a bridge?
They can't let you die, the voice returned. Why? Jump. Jump and you'll make a mockery of them. Jump, take the plunge and erase everything they have over you. Their power, their repression, their authority vanishes like that. Free! Released! You'll be free, don't you see? Free! Why don't you just do it, you rebel! Make your mark!
Vertigo. Blissful vertigo; baring weakness for all to see. Help me! Jump! Please get off the bridge! Help me! Jump! Plunge! Over the edge, you go. Vertiginous sounds, each emptier than the next. Hollow noise, constant clamour. Jump! Don't do it, there are other ways, poison; noose; bathtub gore; sliced piece by piece; bullets; immolation; electric, fried body; and JUMP! Spin. Spin. Take the Leap. Vertigo. Blissful vertigo stretching to the depths.
He looked towards the bridge; the negotiator was approaching, a heavy-set guy with a bald dome and a couple whiskers sprouting above his upper lip. A contemptibly cardboard cop, he thought. Instant deja vu.
"Now, son, you've got the rest of your life ahead of you. Whatever is troubling you now, we can work through it together. We promise you..." the negotiator paused momentarily, as if trying to muster a little more. But it was too late. The boy was on his way.
He ended up in the water. Spining the whole way down. The bliss of vertigo was there to the bitter end. On the way down, he saw the officer's face; the face of a vanished father, tears raining down for a forgotten son.
"...I promise you."
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What will you most regret? Never having teenage love between the sheets.
Really? Yeah, prom night happened in the back alley of a Denny's.
Oh. Okay.
What will you miss the most? The rain.
Figures.
Who will you miss the most? My dog Skip.
Alrighty.
Last question: Do you believe in God? Hell no.
Alright, we are done here. It will take about 6-8 weeks for processing. At that time you will enter our re-training program and we'll get you started on your new assignment ASAP. Just sign here and here - and please feel free to visit the sites while here.
What is there to see? It kind of looks like a void.
Well, there is where you are wrong. A void is anything you'd like. So please explore.
What if I wanted to be in a brothel?
Think it and it will be.
Um, how about a brothel full of chicks without dicks?
It is the product of your thoughts. We can do nothing to change it.
What are you insinuating?
Nothing at all. It is what you imagine it to be, only you can control it.
I wasn't thinking about trannies!
It is what it is.
Um, okay. And what is 6-8 weeks in a void anyway?
About 2-3 days earth time.
Why didn't you just say that?
Can't. Company policy.
The fucking voice lied to me.
