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I couldn’t imagine being anywhere but here, all on my own; it just seems to feel right. The way that my life has been going for the last few weeks, months even, it seems normal that I should be all on my own with nobody to tell me that it’s going to be okay. But in my mind’s eye, I can tell things won’t be okay. Everything has just been a whirlwind of emotions, spinning wildly out of my control. The calm before the storm has passed. And now the storm is truly upon me, gripping me and holding me down so that I cannot progress any further.

So in a bid to calm the storm, or at least make it seem not so real, I go to the kitchen and take a bottle of wine from the fridge, just removing the cork from the neck of the bottle and drinking from it. Life has no purpose, life has no meaning, I am not meant to be here. It is not for me to live this life and be happy, I know that now.

And even in this semi-drunken state, the home I have helped to maintain seems so alien, so cold and distant. Yes, it is my home, the place I have grown up in, but it is not a place I want to be. I want to be in a fantasy land, somewhere where things seem okay and I can have what I truly want.

Before leaving the kitchen, I finish the first bottle of wine and get another from the fridge. This home seems so remote and vague; it doesn’t seem so familiar anymore. Now, truly under the effect of the alcohol, I sit on the third step of the stairs in the hall, head hung low, spinning slightly. There is a draft running through the hall from the front door, and it makes me shiver. The world is sending me a signal, telling me that the time is right, and I have no other choice. I hear the world, and I follow the feeling.

Pulling myself up from where I sat for what seems like such a great length of time, my head spins. Perhaps I had been sat there, holding the cold glass bottle for too long, and the alcohol already consumed was taking greater hold of me. Well no matter, I couldn’t let it slip away, the moment is now and I must take it.

Each step that I climb feels like a mountain, my leaden legs only just managing to conquer something so small, yet quite colossal. Into my room I walk, making a slight sound as I walk over the carpet, the last step of the stairs creaking as I leave it.

Now neat and tidy from a recent tidying spree, my bedroom feels so odd, like it does not belong to me. The air still smells of the vacuum cleaner, a lavender scent drifting to my nose.

I go to the window and pull the curtains back, looking at the stars shining in the midnight black sky. They look so beautiful tonight, but they’re not shining for me. They’re shining for all the lovers out there who are happy, to whom god has given a hope in hell of living a long and prosperous life together. There is no hope for me; god has given up on me.

Finishing the last few drops of the bottle of wine, I throw it to the floor. It creates a dull thud on the carpet and rolls over until it reaches my bed. I go to the desk beside my bed, pull the top drawer open and take from it the window key.

I know what I must do…

It is quite windy once the window is open, but it doesn’t bother me. The sharp chill makes all the hairs on my arms stand up to attention. And as I place one foot on the window sill, pulling myself out of the window frame completely, all of my body is tense.

There is no turning back now. No going back to a life that seems like it would never end, because it truly will end, in but a moment. And in a moment, it will all turn black as I fall from a first floor window to the hard concrete in the back yard. I wish I could change how things were, but there is nothing to be done about the situation.

Eyes closed, I feel my hair whip around my face with the wind. Taking one last breath to calm any doubts I have left, I put one foot in front of the other and forget my inhibitions.

There is no turning back…