(A/N: This song fic is based on the song by Box Car Racer, and is basically about suicide and all the lives it affects. I hope it’s not too depressing, because it’s not really a depressing song. Please review!)

Elevator

The building turned its back ignored my call

Tom starred down at his life’s defeat before his eyes; the buildings height making the pit of his stomach sick with anxiety.

“It has to be done...” he whispered to himself, the wind carrying his voice lightly across the empty roof top.

The people below looked so content, happy with their lives, he wanted to join them; be another anonymous face in the crowd in stead of the center of dejected attention he would soon become.

The concrete looks too thin to break my fall

He tried not to think of what would happened afterwards, he concentrated on the here and now; what needed to be done. He took his time; like somewhere deep inside he thought that something would happen if he waited a little longer, something to rescue his pathetic life.

But nothing would happen; there was no one around, no one to comfort him, no one to convince him not to do it. The only people around were the ants far below, and they had no interest in him.

The sunset stretched across this nighttime scene

He pulled off his jacket and put it down on the edge. He didn’t know why he did it, it’s not like he was coming back for it or anything; he just felt it was necessary, like the jacket was worth more than his own life.

He sighed for at least the tenth time in the past hour, and then slowly made his way up and onto the edge, being careful not to fall prematurely.

I counted people as I neared the street below

He stood on the brink of death for a few more seconds, mentally preparing himself for what inevitably lay ahead. He was shaking with fear and anticipation.

The people below still went about their daily work, sadly oblivious to the human torment going on above their heads.

That’s when he began to cry. Not for himself, he could care less about himself, but for the people below. He half wanted to turn around and leave, find some pills or a hand gun and end his misery away from the eyes of these innocent civilians. But he couldn’t do that now; he had already gone too far.

Below...

A rush of air.

A pounding heart.

Eyes blurred with wind and tears.

It was done.

He was gone.

Mark paused in his step, putting down his briefcase to tie an undone lace. He sighed for the tenth time in the past hour, another day was done, yet he felt unfulfilled.

He looked up at the sun, setting over the tips of many massive skyscrapers, hoping to catch a glimpse of insight.

That’s when he saw him.

The shadow grew as he approached the ground

He didn’t know what to do, his mind panicked and all he could do was stare up at the inconceivable figure on the top of the building. He hoped that it wasn’t true, that he was doing something else on that edge, an electrician doing his job, or perhaps a hopeful sightseer getting a better view. But deep down he knew what he was really doing.

At that moment he prayed that he hadn’t looked up, that he had never seen anything at all, then maybe it could go away and never happen.

The sunset stretched across this nighttime scene

The sunlight shone off the many glass windows, but Mark’s gaze still remained unmoved on the haunting figure. He pleaded with the man in his mind, urging him to step away, to give his life on more chance, but the words could not be heard.

Slowly, the man on the building tipped his weight over the edge, his body seeming to move in slow motion. It was real, it was going to happen, and Mark could do nothing to stop it now.

I turned away as he came near the street below

He began to fall, a picture of human suffering and pain at its peak. Mark watched at first, but it soon became to hard to take; he turned away, directing his gaze to the ground and closing his eyes tight.

Below...

Screams of horror.

A picture to not be forgotten.

But to wish to forget.

Grief, suffering, sadness...

Not all for just one.

Below...

Turn away.

Do not look.

Do not crowd.

Do not gasp.

Leave him in his release.

A woman sits at a desk, engrossed in work and coffee with no distractions but for the constant ring of the phone. A picture of a man sits on her desk, he is smiling, but the smile would soon be proven false.

The phone rings again. Not unusual in her daily routine, but for the news on the other end. She picks it up, in ignorance, to hear her world come crashing down.

Let’s forget this all move on...

A phone rests on a wall, watched by a woman in a chair. She is thinking of the brother she never calls, the brother she hadn’t seen in years. She has starred at this phone many times before, all with the same cowardly result. This time is much the same; she turns away from the phone and distracts he vision towards a glowing television screen.

Let’s forget this all move on...

A television is watched by a man; he sees the daily news flash by and is slowly filled with grief. Tragedy, criminals, and death. One after another he sees these things go by, affected by none but touched by all.

He cries for the hurricanes, he cries for the kidnappings, he cries for the burglaries, and he cries for the woman who just lost her son.

Let’s forget this all move on...

A mother holds back her pain, keeps her composure as the questions come. The officer before her is kind, but the things he asks are still like daggers in her heart.

The truth is hard for her to grasp, she doesn’t understand what has happened, why it happened... But still the questions continue, like she might know the answer.

Let’s forget this all move on...

A reporter is lost for words, not sure what to ask in a situation so grim. The scene of it all has depressed him, he contemplates the field of work he has gotten into. Cameras flash all around him, screams and cries ring in his ears, he is lost for words.

Let’s forget this all move on...

A man sits on a bench, unable to speak, unable to hear. He is lost in his mind. He thinks of what could have been, with a turn of fate, where he could’ve been at that moment...

An image replays in his mind, the image of a man on a building, the sun glaring off the glass, standing on the brink of destruction, and he is helpless to but watch.

Let’s forget this all move on...

Ground beneath.

People all around.

A sunset above.

None of it he sees.

None of it he knows.

He is gone.

He is released.

He is free.