The sky is bright. Too bright. I hate it when the sunlight burns my eyes. Sometimes I wish I could just reach my arms into the sky and pull a dimming shade down over the sun. Unfortunately, I'm not God. I try reaching anyway, and my arm only stretches about nowhere close to the string I intend to bring down with me.

Sounds like life's expectations. I stare at the building in front of me, up from the bottom, like one of those chalk drawings that you have to look at from an extreme angle to comprehend the beauty. I see windows stretching upward, and I remember where I was just minutes... no, seconds ago. "To the top!" I think as I attempt the Superman move we all know and love to hate.

My eyes follow the mini-glares of each window as I race my imaginary Superman self to the uppermost edge of the building. I vision me standing there, as I was a moment before, like a birdman on the verge of taking flight for the first... or last time. I move my arms outward, spread out like angel wings in a freshly fallen snowdrift. I enjoy this memory so much that I can nearly feel the cold rush of air overtaking my senses. Or is that nerve damage? Do I really care? I envelope the memory without hesitation, because I know how difficult it is for me to find memories as wonderful as this.

Can I still move my neck? Do I really care? I hear things around me, things like voices. They might be voices, but they seem slower, like one of those tape recorders you can slow down to a near grinding halt. I love that voice. And so I smile. I picture myself lying here, smiling up at the Sun who mocks back at me by glaring into my face. All I can do is smile. And breathe, until I can't breathe anymore.

And I can't breathe anymore.

I just want to lie still for a bit. So, I turn my neck slowly, gently, towards my left side and stare down the street. As my neck creaks, I hear small bones popping and cracking, like a can of poppy seeds. I see people running toward me, moving in as slow motion as their voices seem to be. It still makes me smile. I see vehicles, moving quicker still, but not too quick that my Superman powers don't reveal to me their license tags or facial expressions or dents in their front bumper.

As I stepped to the edge of some building wherever I am, I had already begun to feel every worry I've ever had lift from me. The wind seemed to wisp away the evaporating strains of everyday life. Every worry I'd ever felt stood on the edge, right there with me. I refused to let them drag me down anymore. I decided to drag them down instead.

And I was falling before I realized it.

I felt pain the second I struck the sidewalk. I felt my back break violently as my head richocheted from the concrete. I felt my fears of tests, stress, loneliness, all continue falling through the ground and out of me. I felt my facial features loosen from the release of pressure, as the feeling in my legs disappeared.

And as the headlights of that car with the big ugly dent on the right side of its bumper careened directly at my broken, paralyzed body, I attempted to summon my Superman effort once more. I confidently hold up my arm and form a "half" sign, with the greatest smile I'd ever experienced plastered to the front of my face. I see the driver, fear in his eyes, and I remember one last time exactly why I I plunged from that building to the lake of blood I lie in now. I simply wave as slow motion speeds to regularity, and my Superman powers bleed into the earth, along with the miserable life I led before.

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