• Then it hit me. Like the hot spinning bullet of a .50 caliber desert eagle the panic pierced my skull and tore into my brain as I felt the cold steel railing sliding out from under me, the bright lights above the Golden Gate Bridge slowly moving away. My limp muscles flexed with a surge of adrenaline and a futile hand subconsciously threw itself upwards, my fingertips scraping against the rough concrete of the walkway, my skin peeling and bleeding as it slipped away.
    This is it.
    And there was that one quiet moment; that slow building of momentum as you began to fall.
    It’s over.
    I opened my dry cracked lips to scream but my tongue fluttered in vain as the cold wind rushed into my mouth, forcing my screams back down my throat.
    No.
    It blasted into my face, into my dry bloodshot eyes, drying my tears into my eyelids, jamming them wide open as I stared at the dark water slowly approaching my frail body.
    No.
    They say your life flashes before your eyes just before you die. That’s bullshit. You’re too ******** scared to even think.
    I don’t want this.
    I could feel my lungs in my chest, in my throat, in my mouth; swelling against my burning tongue.
    I've changed my mind.
    The darkness was getting closer. The panic surged through me, pumping through my veins, crushing my stomach, crushing my spine, strangling me.
    Help.
    ********.
    This isn’t what I want.
    ********.
    I’m in over my head.
    ********.
    Someone save me. Take me home.
    Lay me down in my soft warm bed and tell me everything is going to be alright.
    No.
    ********.
    ******** ******** ********.
    Stop.
    Don’t let me die god.
    Don’t let me die. I don’t want to die.
    Please.
    No.
    I don’t