Chapter 5 Bernie

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Chapter Five

I couldn't believe I was getting second thoughts about continuing with my mission. This wasn't supposed to happen. I had stepped into the tiny roadside diner just to grab a quick meal and get back on the road. Nothing more. But there I was-still sitting, long after I had devoured the burger and fries. Something about this place, or maybe someone, had rooted me to the seat like I belonged there. I didn't, though. I never really belonged anywhere.

I finally stood up, slowly, reluctantly, as if peeling myself away from a strange comfort. I picked up my purse from the table and walked over to the counter. I dropped a fifty on the counter. "I'm sorry for taking up your time," I said to Bernie, the guy behind the counter with the kind smile and eyes like summer skies.

"Can I get a bottle of water?" I added, trying to sound casual.

"Sure," he said, walking over to the fridge. He returned and handed me the bottle, his fingers brushing against mine. "I'm really sorry I couldn't stay longer," he said, almost like he meant it.

I glanced at his face, trying to be discreet, but my eyes betrayed me. They locked on his, and I couldn't look away. There was something in those blue eyes-soft, yet distant. Something hidden deep inside them. A story I'd never hear. A past I'd never know. Or maybe I just had a thing for blue eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, genuine concern painting his expression. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

I hesitated, unsure if I should ask. But then I nodded. "Actually, yes. The last time I visited here, I passed a bridge. Can you help me locate it again?"

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing in thought. For a moment-fifteen seconds, maybe-we just stared at each other. His gaze held a mix of confusion and worry, and maybe something else I couldn't quite name.

Finally, he scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me. "Just go right from here," he said simply.

I thanked him with a nod and walked out, the cold bottle in one hand and the directions in the other. I drove slowly, following his notes. They were oddly precise-he'd even marked landmarks and distance estimates. It felt like he wanted to make sure I didn't get lost. In less than twenty minutes, I found the bridge.

It looked the same. Solid. Quiet. Endless.

I crossed it, my car humming along the empty road. Across the bridge was an open space, a sort of clearing surrounded by nothing but silence. I parked the car. This was it. If anyone ever came looking for me, the car would be their only clue. Not that I intended to leave one. But I needed it for the journey. Public transport was out of the question-I was too broken for that. I'd cried for most of the ride, tears spilling over the steering wheel like waves I couldn't hold back.

I grabbed my things and walked back to the bridge. It was just after midnight. The world had gone quiet. Only a few cars passed by now and then, and somewhere in the distance, a church bell rang, faint and far away. It reminded me of my mom.

I thought about her. What would she do when she found out? Would she cry? Would she scream? Would she feel guilt, or would she just feel free? I had always been the stubborn boil in the ass, the child who never fit, never listened. Maybe this would be a relief. Maybe she would finally breathe.

I stood on the bridge, staring down at the vast stretch of water below. It shimmered under the pale moonlight, beautiful and dark. I dropped everything I was holding into the sea-my purse, my scarf, even the bottle of water I had only took a sip from. Then, against my better judgment, I pulled out my phone one last time.

I opened Lucille's page. My sister.

She'd posted more pictures since the last time I stalked her. There she was, grinning with her fiancé and a group of colleagues. She'd captioned the photo: Family. I scoffed, bitterness rising like bile in my throat. This is her family? I thought. Good luck with your new family, I told her in my mind, fingers swiping across the screen before I turned it off for good.

I climbed the rail, gripping it tightly. Now I was sitting on it, my legs dangling, nothing between me and the drop. I wasn't afraid. There were no second thoughts this time. I was ready. Strangely, I was also in a hurry.

I looked at my hands wrapped around the cold metal. I tried to pray, but I didn't know what to say. I wanted to pray for my mom, but how do you pray for someone who's better off without you? I thought about Lucille-how we hadn't spoken in years, how the silence had grown until it became a wall. We'd become strangers, and maybe that was the safest thing. I still wondered, though-did she ever think of reaching out? Did she ever feel the silence, too?

My hands began to shake. I had been gripping the rail so tightly, they were starting to hurt. My eyes were misty, though I wasn't sure if it was from crying or the night wind brushing against my face.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The wind danced with my hair, brushing against my cheeks, whispering through the silence. With each breath, I felt lighter. My pain began to fade. My fear disappeared. The weight in my chest-the pain of rejection, abandonment, loneliness-it all melted away.

All I could feel was peace.

If this was death, then this was what I had longed for. Finally, peace.

I let go.

I released my grip and kept my eyes closed. I was falling, but it felt like I was flying. The wind cradled me, my hair whipped around my face, and the whoosh of the air around me sounded like music-soft, strange music that only I could hear.

Then came the splash.

The icy water hit me like a wall, soaking me completely. I sank beneath the surface. My eyes were still closed. I didn't want to open them. I didn't want to see anything anymore.

This is it, I thought.

I began to sink. I couldn't swim. I didn't want to swim. No one was coming for me. No one knew. No one would care.

I exhaled the final air from my lungs and felt myself drift further into the cold embrace of the water.

This is it, I told myself again.

But then, something happened. I heard something-a song? A hum? I couldn't tell. It was soft, haunting, and beautiful. It grew louder, closer.

And then I felt it-hands. Or something like hands. Strong. Sure. Wrapping around my waist and pulling me in with speed. Humming.

Panic flickered in my mind.

Was I dead already? I wondered.

Is this it? Am I dead?