I was running. I didn't know for how long anymore. Maybe thirty minutes. My lungs were on fire, my breath sharp and broken, like my body was trying to scream without a voice. My legs barely held me upright. Still, I kept running.
I had to get there. To the place she showed me.
Everything around me was dark. The night had swallowed the world whole. The only light nearby was a lonely streetlamp, flickering like it was unsure it wanted to keep living.
My vision was blurred. My chest felt like it was going to explode. I had bitten down on my lip so hard, blood was trickling down my chin. My eyes were red, swollen. Almost crying. Or maybe already crying.
I couldn't find her.
But I knew.
She had done it.
And if I were her, I would've done the same.
I had no one. No one left. Not even a stranger to die beside.
I hated it.
I hated love.
I hated this feeling that clung to me like frost. I couldn't hold it, couldn't understand it, couldn't let it go.
I climbed the fence. No one was there to stop me. I stared into the stars above—quiet, distant, untouched. Then I looked down. Black. Still. Endless.
For one final breath… I jumped.
Feet first. Then, as I fell, I turned my body so I would hit the water on my back. Let the sky see my face one last time.
The moment I touched the water, it felt like the world disappeared. No light. No sound. Just a numb cold that wrapped around me like death's hand.
And in that silence…
I felt her.
She was close. So close.
That was my last night.
My final cry no one would ever hear.
That was…
my final requiem.