The Jump
Jerry peered over the edge of the roof of the 20-story building. He squinted, trying to focus his eyes on one spot on the ground. If he focused on one thing, he told himself, he wouldn’t realize just how high up he was. He straightened himself and edged closer, now standing on the ledge. The pavement waited silently below. A few people had already begun to look up, gasping and pointing. He put one foot in front of himself, staring at it as it dangled in the air. He felt the breeze blow past his face, almost threatening to get on with it.
A door behind him opened, and he stopped himself, turning back to see who had interrupted him. The man almost looked like a cadaver, or something pulled out of a story. Jerry thought he looked quite like the Slenderman. He was tall and skinny with pale, almost white skin. He wore a suit so black that the surrounding light seemed to be sucked into it like a black hole.
“Who are you?” he asked. “How did you get up here?”
The man didn’t respond immediately, but instead took his time looking around. Eventually, his face perked up, and he slowly made his way to an HVAC system. He took a seat.
“You can call me Than,” he finally said.
“Like, short for Nathaniel?”
“Sure.”
Jerry frowned. “You’re not going to stop me,” he said.
“Oh no, by all means.” He crossed his legs and waved a hand dismissively. “Go ahead.”
Jerry turned around fully now, still on the edge of the building.
“How do you mean?” he asked.
“I simply have no intention of talking you out of jumping,” he replied. “In fact, I would very much like for you to jump.”
“Okay…” Jerry wasn’t sure he had just heard right. If anyone was able to get up to him in time, surely they would be trying to get him off the ledge, to get him to not go through with it. “You’ve got so much to live for!” they would say, or “Think about who you would be hurting!” Jerry had already considered these, and he was still here, but he was still sure someone would try to. Maybe this was some sort of reverse psychology?
“Why?” was all he could eventually muster.
“Well, I’ve been considering many things, and I would like to see if this is worth it,” he said matter-of-factly. “On that note, if you wouldn’t mind falling on your back, I would like to see your face right before you hit the ground.”
“My face?”
“Yes. The face always tells you know,” he said. “There are always signs of how a person truly feels, no matter how much one might try to hide it. I want to see if there is any regret in your face.” He paused. “Or happiness.”
For some reason, Jerry could tell this man wasn’t lying. This wasn’t reverse psychology. Whoever this man was, wanted him to jump.
Jerry looked at the man’s eyes. They were almost as black as his suit, and did not stay fixed on one thing. In fact, he seemed dissociated from the world entirely.
“You’re considering jumping as well?” Jerry asked, “And you want to see if I regret it?”
“Something like that.”
Suddenly, he put his pale hand into his jacket pocket. Jerry watched curiously as Than produced a pack of Marlboros, tapped out a cigarette, flicked open a lighter, and lit it.
He took a long drag before noticing Jerry’s gaze. “Oh, where are my manners,” he said. “You want one?” He offered a stick.
“No, no. I don’t smoke,” Jerry replied.
“Oh good,” Than said, sliding the packet back into his pocket, “because these things will get you before the jump does.” He started laughing at his joke but quickly stopped after Jerry didn’t join in.
“Bad timing?” he asked. Jerry couldn’t give a reply.
Than shrugged. “I’ve never been good at jokes, anyway.”
He took another long drag.
“So, why do you want to kill yourself, anyway?”
Jerry did a double-take at the question, holding out his arms to steady himself. Only then did he realize that he was still standing on the ledge. A crowd had gathered on the street below, and he heard sirens growing louder in the distance. Than had not yet asked him to step away from the ledge, so he hadn’t.
“The police are going to be here soon, it looks like,” Jerry said.
“I’m not worried.”
“Why do you want to know my reasoning?”
Than shrugged. “Context?” he replied. “It might help me understand my problem more.”
Than eyed him more closely. It was the first time Jerry felt like Than was actually looking at him. “You don’t look like you’ve done too badly for yourself,” he said.
“You look fine, dressed in a smart suit and tie.” He brought his wrist up to his eyes, but there was no watch on his pale skin. “It’s only about 6 pm, so you’ve possibly just gotten off work.”
Than looked up at him to confirm. Jerry nodded..
“You work in this building?” he pointed downwards.
Jerry made a sharp noise through his teeth. “Quite the detective.”
“And you’ve got a wife and,” he counted in the air, “two kids?”
“How do you know?”
“I know things.”
Than took another drag of his cigarette, taking his time to blow the smoke out in circles. He noticed Jerry staring and made a gesture with his free arm.
‘Well, go on.’ Jerry could almost hear Than say.
“Look, I’m not sure if I want to share my reasons with you.”
“Well then, you might as well jump now,” Than said.
“You aren’t going to press me?”
Get Chukwuemeka Francis Nzerem’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
“I’ll know eventually.”
“How?” Jerry asked.
Than didn’t answer. Instead, he smiled and took another drag of his smoke.
“Well?” he asked. “Need a push?”
Jerry recoiled at the question. “No, I don’t need you to push me.”
“Good, because I wasn’t going to do it anyway,” Than said casually. “It would ruin things if this wasn’t your choice.”
“My choice,” Jerry muttered. There was silence for a few moments. He looked down again. The crowd had only grown, and he could still hear the sirens, but they oddly seemed even further away than before.
He looked at the weird man in front of him. Than was aloof, humming something as he smoked. Surely this man wasn’t real. He had to be some figment of Jerry’s imagination. Jerry sighed. If this was the last person he talked to, he might as well tell them how he felt.
“Living is… difficult,” he said.
Than perked up, “He speaks!”
Jerry almost laughed at his situation. ‘Of course this is the last person I ever talk to,’ he thought.
“I don’t really know how to explain it, but it’s just always been a feeling. I’ve always known I wouldn’t be good at dealing with everyday life. It feels like someone carried me through life, and I never really did what I wanted to do.”
“And what did you want to do?” Than asked.
“That’s the problem,” Jerry replied. “I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I got a job in finance; I even got married and have two kids, like you said. But I’ve never felt happy or fulfilled.”
“So you want to kill yourself at the ripe old age of 33.”
Jerry wondered how the man knew his age.
“Yes,” he said.
“Is that it?” Than asked.
“Is that it?” Jerry repeated. “I’m sorry if I don’t have a story of me being abused or losing everything. I’ve never felt like I had a choice. I was born without a choice, carried through life, and now I’m leaving without a choice. Normal people can feel unhappy too. Normal people can feel unneeded in this world as well.”
Than laughed. It was big and loud. Jerry felt it rattle his skull.
“You’re boring,” he said. “I’ve heard better reasons.”
“Oh, right? Because there’s a good reason for someone wanting to do this,” Jerry was getting annoyed at the man now.
“I’ve just heard more interesting reasons, you know. Scandals, cheating, secrets, the kind of stuff you people are always getting into.” Than said.
“Are you saying I shouldn’t do it then?” Jerry asked, “I should keep on trying because I don’t have a valid reason?”
“Oh no. I’m just saying your reason is boring, but I still want you to jump.” Than gave Jerry a look that felt like it burned through his face. “I’m also saying that you’re a weak man.”
“You don’t get to call me that,” Jerry said. “You don’t understand how it feels to never feel accepted, to hate living but be scared of doing anything else, to do things but never feel fulfilled, to fall in love with someone but never feel accepted.”
“You’re talking about feeling accepted?” Than asked, “No one accepts me until it’s too late.”
“What does that even mean?” Jerry asked.
“Well, you seem to be getting mad at me,” Than responded.
Jerry frowned. “Yes, I’m mad at you. I’m also mad at myself, and I’m mad at this world. I hate this life, I hate living, and I hate you,” he said. “I can’t believe the last person I talk to ever will be you.”
Than just stared. “Well, jump then.”
At that moment, that was all Jerry wanted to do. Looking back, he gave a weak smile. “Maybe you’ll get to do your little experiment after all.” He dangled one foot in front of him. The wind blew, the sirens grew louder, and the people below him shouted for him to stop, but he couldn’t hear them. They would not tell him what to do; he had had enough of that. He looked past them, at the concrete below, waiting patiently as it had at the beginning.
He took a breath, and…
Jerry paused. Why did he want to jump? He never experienced the feeling of being his own person. He felt like he never made a choice of his own. He felt like he had to do this. He thought about everything he had done, how he’d always seemed to know where his life was going, but only because he felt like everyone else was making the decisions for him.
“If I jumped here, would I be the one making this choice?” he asked himself. “Or is this just the conclusion to the story someone else wrote for me?”
Then he started laughing. It was loud and genuine, and tears streamed down his eyes as he did. “Even my death will not be my choice.”
Jerry turned, looking at Than, who had been patiently waiting.
“I’m choosing not to do this,” he said. “I didn’t realize that even jumping was something I felt like I had to do. I feel like I want to try things again, doing things the way I want to.”
Than stared for a moment, then he said. “Well, that’s interesting.”
“What is?”
“I usually see regret or happiness, but you’re neither,” he said. “It’s more… acceptance?”
“I guess,” Jerry said. “My life hasn’t been great, but I guess I’m accepting that and willing to try.”
“Well then, I’ll be seeing you,” Than said, getting up.
“That’s it?” Jerry asked.
“That’s it.”
“I hope I never see you again,” Jerry said.
Than smiled. “You’ll be seeing me eventually,” he said, “but I do hope it won’t be too soon.”
Then, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows.
Jerry stepped away from the edge of the roof of the 20-story building.
