With the setting sun as background, giving the otherwise blank urbanistic scenery the never-old tinges of orange and red, the well-earned end of the day of many had finally been delivered.

Both to the ones who had been busing themselves with their means of survival, to also the ones who had already somehow managed to find ways to grant themselves the presence of those means, and were since before indulging in whatever activity they found appeal in.

And with the setting of the sun, the rise of the moon was the obvious course, and with it, the start of the night of the many who had to carry on with their means of survival at such a later date, plus the ones still stubbornly held on with their late activities against the common sleep schedule.

Alas, in an overlocked part of the city housing this typical scenery, on the rooftop of a nine-story building - one way past its time of service - stood one of the ones who should have long since reached the place where his periodical respite awaited.

The young man - who barely looked past his 16's - held an unusually blank look on his face, one that neither the strong light coming from the faraway star nor the constant swaying of his shoulder-length orange hair - coming from the intense winds aided by the less far away satellite - could make waver.

Held in his right hand was a coin of ******** currency, ready to be tossed in the air despite the most likely outcome of it being carried away by the wind.

And yet, the coin was tossed.

And through clean motions - clearly over practiced who knows where - the coin was not only brought to the air just close enough to the young man so that he may not lose sight of it, but was also able to land exactly on the center of his fully outstretched left hand, having been extended towards a particular direction right after taking four seemingly random steps while occasionally glancing on the sky.

But it was not time yet to see the result.

As slow as a snail, as if he was trying his best to make himself lose patience, ultimately failing in breaking the blank look on his face for a single instant, the young man brought his left hand holding the fallen coin on top of his right arm...

And as he lifted his left hand, without ever altering his movement speed, attempting to savor the wait but without a single change in his dull expression; he was met with the result he had been expecting all along.

“Heads again...”

But not one he was glad to have been guessing correctly day after day.

And with a voice as dull as his own expression, one almost entirely devoid of anything making it human, he lamented.

“This prank has been going on for long enough.”

Glancing for an instant at a rather far away hospital, his pitch black eyes giving a run for the money at whoever may attempt to guess the contents of his mind, he proclaimed.

“I told you earlier, that today I would do it, no matter on which side of the coin landed.”

Saying so, the young man began the last walk of his life towards the border of the building, while at this point, his words began to lower in volume...

“Yet you're still doing this stupid trick...”

Until they were only audible if one were to whisper them directly to someone's hear.

“If you really want to make me give up with these kinds of means, I think it's time for you to get creative.”

Reaching the border of the rooftop, he closed his eyes, immersing himself to the reality of impending death, conscious that he was not even half a meter close to that end feared by everyone he had ever known.

Alas, his expression didn't change, and he soon shouted, eyes as wide and voice as loud as he possibly could.

“Because if you don't, Adam Keirs is soon going to jump off from right here!”

Which, honestly, wasn't much by common standards, but one had to work with what he had been offered...

Or rather, what he had ended up with...

And he waited, for about an half minute...

And no traces of either an unlikely passerby getting alarmed by his shouting or any kind of supernatural sign were found through his five senses.

And so...

He jumped.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Offering neither second thoughts nor last words for the world to hear.

♢♢♢

Time seemed to stretch for infinity.

And while I'm confident that, in about less than five real-world seconds, I should already be no more than a lifeless lump of humanoid meat on the street, I'm also aware that the human brain can do wonders if put under very specific situations.

Like suicide for example.

Which, in my humble opinion, is a bit of a shame since, like this, I'll never be able to know the feeling of a full-speed free-fall from a decent height.

But no use crying over spilled milk as they say, since even the experience of a world in slow motion is pretty remarkable...

As for what to do with all of this quite literally free time, I already have an idea.

In the first place, this whole idea is definitely the reason why I'm even experiencing the fall in slow motion...

I thought that during the fall my mind would, at best, be awakened by every little detail of the situation or, at worst, be as blank as my current face...

Yet, all I'm seeking in the current situation is reminiscence.

And not the full-life kind, but merely one that would answer the lamest question of all.

What gave Adam Keirs the inspiration for his suicide?

From method.

To location.

I was deeply aware about why I was jumping off from a nine-story building.

But why was I jumping off from a nine-story building?

That was where my mind wandered for an instant right after my feet met the void.

And feeling the unfamiliar surge of wonder radiating from the deepest part of my mind, I chose to comply.

And began reminiscing them.

The makings of my suicide attempts.

☆☆☆

In the current Keirs household, all the days started roughly in the same manner.

From the typical silent awakening of both father and son in their own separate rooms in slightly different timespans, needing no aid from the alarms gathering dust on their bedside tables, to the quiet routines performed by the two without ever sparing a glance, much less a word, to the other.

For Adam, that morning was no different.

Naturally opening his eyes at around 5 AM, at least an hour before even his most dedicated peers were able to get out of bed, he headed towards the only bathroom in the house, skillfully maneuvering out of the mess inside his room despite his foggy mind.

Having long since reached a consensus with his father regarding their respective time of usage for the bathroom, he held no concerns about either the place being already in use or his father needing it while he was the one occupying it, as he should have already done all he needed inside half an hour ago.

And opening the door without even knocking, he was met with an already-ready bath for him to enjoy.

That was one of the many perks of being the one who, as a student, instead of an active worker of society, had the leeway to wake up relatively late compared to his father.

And he surely planned to enjoy his bath as usual.

Taking off his gray nightwear and black underclothing, he began to gradually immerse his bare self inside the bathtub.

It started from a toe, passing the ankle in its travels, reaching the knee soon after that.

And by the time it takes for a man to fall from a nine-story building, the water had already covered his whole lower body, taking over the upper body right after.

For a moment, the journey seemed to have met its end.

Until, after not even half a minute in, it resumed, from his neck, to his mouth, nose, eyes, ears, and hair, until he was fully submerged by water without any source of air for his needy lungs.

And time continued to pass.

10 seconds...

20 seconds...

30...

50...

And even when a full minute had long since passed, he still didn't emerge.

Not when his lungs were screaming at him like he was mad.

Not when his heart began pulsating so fast it might as well have exploded at any given moment.

Not when his conscience started to shift from wide awake to half passed out at worrying speed.

And even with the rapid blurring of his vision, he still did not jolt himself out of the water.

Because he had to experience this.

He had to understand this.

To repent for this

2:12...

2:38....

3:02.....

Suddenly, an orange head bolted out of the water, together with a pair of hands which went straight to holding the corners of the bathtub like their lives depended on it.

And wrong they were not, as barely a few seconds more inside the water would have potentially spelled doom to their bearer, who was now breathing heavily, chin leaning on the bathtub edges; but still doing his best to keep the sounds resulting from his actions as low as possible.

And despite the craziness of his actions, he neither said nor thought of anything addressing both them or their twisted nature.

As if that was also routine...

As routine as a cup of hot coffee to wake up the mind before a busy day could ever be.

♦♦♦

In the Keirs' household, breakfast was carried out as quietly as possible, with neither father nor son initiating any sort of conversation while eating their own pancakes, typically covered in either sweet honey or dark chocolate.

Today was no exception, not that Adam himself had ever been the one to break the rule...

“Adam, how are the studie-”

“Father, keep it down if you please, we are at home.”

No, the one who was periodically testing the boundaries of the rule was none other than his father, Nicholas Keirs.

A man whose only noticeable feature were his emerald-colored eyes, which stood out even more when paired with his plain short black hair and below-average build.

Though the last one had seen much better days several years ago...

But the truly puzzling thing was that, hearing his son's rude and unreasonable words, Nicholas didn't reprimand him, instead...

“Sorry.”

He apologized, with a voice so low that someone might have mistaken it with the wind playing a joke on them.

And Adam...

Didn't even spare him a glance.

No, he had never given him a glance since who knows when.

From when they sat on the table to eat, to when they got up, each beginning with their preparations for the day.

And even when they were both fully clothed, standing right in front of the door leading outside of their silent abode, Adam with the first thing he found remotely passable in his room, Nicholas with a business suit so thoroughly maintained it locked new - obviously not missing a professional red tie - their eyes still, mainly by the will of Adam, never once crossed.

Because Adam would never dare to glance at those emerald eyes until he was put inside a coffin.

Thinking of something among those lines, oblivious to the pain that had flashed for an instant on his father's face, he stepped out first.

Without even saying goodbye to his one and only parent.