She wasn’t going. For some acute indiscernible reason Sara had gotten this piercing notion in her head that Lou’s death was Sophie’s fault. That if Sophie hadn’t been there at the restaurant then Lou wouldn’t have died. She was well aware that the thought of that was completely unreasonable - it wasn’t Sophie’s fault that she wasn’t there for Lou to help her. It was entirely and utterly Sara’s fault, and no matter how she tried to convince herself it was Sophie’s fault she knew deep down exactly whose fault it was. Now Sara really did not have anything or anyone in the world.

Her head throbbed. Today there was nothing to tie her to this earth - and her earlier idea of throwing herself into the river seemed so much more appealing now. Besides she was nothing but a burden on everyone anyway. Sarah fumbled through her large jacket, hoping to find a pack of cigarettes. Nada - she hadn’t been able to buy a single cigarette since she had become homeless. The fact that she wasn’t old enough/didn’t even have an ID of any kind did not help. She was entirely and utterly a nobody, and today she was really feeling it.

Sara sat down against a tree. Everything felt numb - whether from the cold morning or recent events. Right now she would do anything to feel anything.

The river called to her. It would just be easy - end this numbness, this void of nothingness she could feel in her chest. She wanted it gone, she wanted Lou back. Sara decided it that moment. She was going to do it. All she had to do was let go. Letting go wasn’t hard when the last ladder rung that you were holding onto disappears. That was a kinder word - disappear. Sara still could hardly believe that Lou was dead, but the mound of dirt with little white flowers on it was a constant reminder. A red flower was plucked from its place on the ground and placed in the middle of triangle - Sara’s promise to Lou.

Of course, Sara didn’t want what she was about to do become public. She had her doubts that anyone would notice her death at all but that didn’t matter. At least no one would be left behind to mourn her. She wasn’t leaving anyone, just joining her dog, her anchor. The air was cool and her breath fogged out in front of her as she walked towards the bridge. Traffic rushed passed her ignorant of her plans regarding this bridge. The brown water rushing beneath her was so incredibly inviting. The railing was slippery as she clambered over the railing. She leaned as far away as her arms would let her.

Let go, Let go, Let go, the voice in her head chanted. An almost religious fever came over her. This is what she deserved. Someone honked.

And she was falling. Wait, no, no, no no no no she was not supposed to die yet - she couldn’t die yet! The water was a wall of bricks, taking her breath from her. Sara gasped, inhaling what felt like pure fire into her lungs. Everything burned and ached and hurt. This was not how it was supposed to happen - it was supposed to be quick and over. Perhaps she deserved this suffering, the thought wormed its way into her head. Darkness crept at the corner of her vision and the feeling of complete and she gasped again, searching for air in a place that had no air to give. She clawed at the water, trying to claw her way up - whichever way was up. Everything was mixed up and the blackness consumed her vision and Sara thought no more.