The soft breeze that start to blow makes me come back to the real world. After a few seconds I remember why my chest hurts so much. I said to myself it doesn´t matter, everything will be over soon.
An ambulance siren wakes me up again, taking me out from the center of my mind. I look around me, realizing how much I have been walking. I am standing in the middle of Coronado Bridge, San Diego Bay in front of me.
Another air stream, this one, stronger and colder than the last one gives me back the awareness over my own body, tears falling on my cheeks. I touch my face and a prick of pain hits me like the fist who stroke me before on my face. I don´t remember when I started crying, I only know it will be over soon. A shiver travel my whole body, because the clothes I am wearing is not prepared for this time of the year. I repeat to myself, it doesn´t matter, it will be over soon.
I look around and I see next to my feet the sports bag with clothes I have bring from the university. I turn down the idea of pick up a sweatshirt, I don´t need it for what I am going to do.
I put again my eyes on the Bay again, one of the few memories I shared with him who could turn me away of what I need to do, it is a shame the list of reasons why I am here in first place is longer than the good memores.
I think in leaving a note, I reject it soon since I don´t have paper nor pen. I could record a video on my phone but explaining all the causes why I am in the middle of a bridge on december 19th will spent a few hours to tell everything and what I have to do it must not delay. The train of thought takes me to the next option, send a message to a friend. It is a shame I have no one. I have acquaintances in class, even some team mate who could talk to, but it is better to leave them alone. They don´t know me enough to care about me. I don´t spend enough time with people to know me. I don´t do parties. I don´t take part on conversations. I am there, but not really. A presence, without disturbing, without interacting. It is easier for what I need to do.
The last reasonable and logical option would be search help on him, but this only make the tears keep flowing. He who must love me, he who must protect me, the one I only feel afraid when I think about him. I knew the result, I knew since years ago and even then I grasp into a thread of hope. Hope he still loved me like I am truly are, protected me. Instead of that he hits me, beats me up and kicks me out of his house. I can´t even say my house. I never feel it like a safe place. Just a route of passage.
So I guess I don´t have anything left, the end is here. My name is Connor Stevens and I came to the Coronado Bridge to kill myself.