The Final Exit

Chapter one of a psychological thriller I write. Alan helps people kill themselves (I know - a heavy topic), and Jade, a cop, investigates Alan while looking for her sister.

Alan

Chapter 1

Now

Every time I see my student dying, I feel awe mingled with envy.

I adjust my position so I have a clear line of sight through the car's windshield. Then I raise the binoculars to my eyes and zoom in on James.

With his feet firmly planted on the roof's edge, he steals a look at the sidewalk forty floors below, as if testing his courage to make that last step.

"That's my boy," I say under my breath and smile. Students of death, I like to call them. And this moment is the graduation.

The weather is to die for. No clouds, so James can see the stars for the last time and feel his insignificance in our galaxy. No strong wind to upset his balance, so his decision will be his own, and not a whim of nature. Few people on the sidewalk below for his falling body to stop prematurely someone else's life. And cold enough for him to believe, his body trembles from the bitter night rather than fear of impending death.

I adjust the magnification for a clearer view.

James reaches inside his pocket, takes out his phone, taps the screen, and presses the handset to his ear.

The cheap burner phone I bought for this occasion chimes a merry tune. I could've changed the ringtone to something more appropriate for the occasion, but I didn't care. It's not like I'll keep the phone after this conversation. I switch it to the speaker with one hand, the other still on the binoculars. "Ready?"

"Yes."

"Must be a killer view from up there."

"Spectacular." James chuckles, recognizing the cheap joke. His voice quivers. It's alright. He hasn't quieted his mind the way I taught him.

"Having second thoughts?" I ask the obligatory question.

"No."

"Very well. Look up. See the stars?"

James's head turns up, and he stays silent for a while. "So many..." he finally says. "Have you ever thought if we're alone in the universe? You think someone up there is watching me at the moment?"

"Soon you'll get all the answers. I envy you."

"You can join me. We can jump together. I know you want it, too."

"My way differs from yours. Scared?"

He looks at the sidewalk again. "It's a long way down."

"Remember your training. Fear's natural. Self-preservation thing."

"I know."

"It's only one step. Takes but a moment. Then nothing will matter anymore."

He nods.

I don't push him, that's not my role. If he decided he didn't want to do it anymore, I wouldn't mind. But I know it's not going to be. Not in his case. Too many times I've had this conversation before. I know how my students react.

"I'm ready." His voice is stronger now. I detect no hesitation.

"You're sure?"

"I know what you're doing. And I'm grateful. But I've decided. I want to finish this tonight."

"Then I guess it's a goodbye. Remember about the phone."

"I will."

"See you on the other side."

"Thank you." After disconnecting, he tinkers with his phone, following our training to reset it to the factory setting, before dropping it onto the roof. He looks up at the stars one more time. And smiles.

I squeeze my binoculars harder and hold my breath. Even now, after so many times, this moment carries a heavy load to me.

Still smiling, he lifts his right foot, holding it in the air for a second, then with a one swift move, steps forward. His body plummets down, quickly gaining momentum.

I count seconds in my head. One, two, two and a half...

James crashes onto the sidewalk below.

I release my breath and put down the binoculars. My role here is finished.

I remove the SIM card and the battery from my phone and put it on the seat beside me, to be thrown away later. Then I start the car's engine and pull off.

When I'm driving past the place where James hit the ground, there is already a small group of people surrounding him, mouths gaping, fingers pointing, the backs of their phones directed at the place James fell, flashes illuminating the place like miniature lightnings.

I press harder on the accelerator and swear. Social fucking media. There is nothing more important than updating your profile nowadays.

For a moment, I fight the urge to turn around and direct my car straight into the overexcited mob.

But I'm not a murderer. I only help.

Life is overrated, anyway.

We may pretend not to see the door, but we're all heading to the final exit.

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