Clarity

||01|| Toothpick

Chapter song: Listen Before I Go by Billie Eilish

C H A P T E R  O N E
Clarity's POV

Just do it, Clarity.

It's what she wants. It's what they want. It's what he wants.

And it's what I want. At least, I think so.

A chill runs down my spine as the September breeze soars through the air, carrying strands of my brown hair to the left. There was no need to wear a coat when I stormed out of that house, not when I won't ever need one again. So here I stand, on top of the three-foot roof wall of the tallest accessible building that I could find in downtown Manhattan.

I sniffle, boogers running quickly down my nose as I look at the street several feet down. People below walk down the sidewalks under the lamp post that illuminate the concrete, living their probably busy lives, not knowing a girl above them is about to end hers.

Lifting my hand, I wipe my nose with the back of it, swiping salty cold tears along with it. My face is so numb I hadn't realized the tears running down it.

Or maybe because it's been hours since what happened, and I'm still crying.

One step, Clarity.

One step, then everything is solved. All the problems I cause my parents and all the stress I give Jonah, my boyfriend.

I'll be out of their lives for good. One less problem to worry about.

Because that's just it. I'm the problem.

This is what they all tell me to do after all. So if everyone in my life consistently tells me I don't belong on this planet, there must be some truth behind it. Right?

My blurry gaze shifts up high at the clear full moon. It's the only thing visible in the night sky above New York City. Not many stars, if any. A result of light pollution. It's a shame because I've always wanted to go stargazing one day. A day that won't ever come, I realize.

I blink, shedding fresh tears, the old ones drying up and leaving hard trails down my cheek.

"Ehem."

My body jerks as the sudden sound of someone clearing their throat finds my ear. I whip my eyes from the street below to look over my shoulder stiffly, seeing a guy.

He balances a toothpick between the corner of his lips. Green eyes, I think, look up at me in confusion, his thick brows pinched together. My eyes fall to observe the rest of him. He wears a black bomber jacket, a gray sweater hood on, with loose black waves poking their way out around it.

"You're crying," he states the obvious.

"I am aware," I mutter. "You can go away now." I'm not sure if I meant it to sound as rude as it did.

I look back at the street below, hoping he'll just leave me be.

"Nah," He says, his voice low and coarse.

No?

My body stiffens, not wanting the attention he's giving me or the distraction from what I came here to do, "Just get the heck away from me, okay? Or I'll jump!"

I don't look at him as I speak, but the silence that follows confuses me. Is he gone? Had what I just said worked on doing what it was supposed to? If so, why do I feel a sudden urge of disappointment?

But it soon disappears as I hear the guy speak again, "Well are you gonna do it? Or are you waiting for me to push you?"

I look back at him, speechless at the last words I expected to leave his mouth. He holds his toothpick in his hand now, a few feet closer to the wall that I stand on.