He stood on top of the building. Tears flowed out of his eyes as he counted the number of things he knew he would never get, if he had walked away from the edge, from the building, back to his hell-house, or jumped, ending his life.
He looked down as he noticed people. They were tiny.
'Like little ants' he thought, staring down as he heard sirens and saw people in panic. They wanted to save the 16 year old life, but no one was moving from the streets below.
"No one gives a damn..." he whispered to himself, his cheeks wet with tears. He began to get a chilled feeling. The end of October on the top of a building was kinda hard. It was really cold. He only wore a tee-shirt, his favorite black "Tokio Hotel" shirt, with ripped jeans and his worn out black converse. His jet black hair covered his blood-shot red hazel eyes, and had a lip piercing.
Blasting in his ears, he played 'Spring Nicht' by Tokio Hotel. An echo of the English version repeated in his head:
"You dream of the end
To start all over again."
He thought about it all the time. To leave the beatings...The screams of his parents. The pain he felt everyday. He was a lonely young soul.
'No one cares, no one cares.'
He repeated the words in his head as people looked up, hoping he would walk away. But he never moved, just like the people below him.
He moved closer to the edge, seeing people yelling, but he didn't hear them. Couldn't hear them. He didn't care. He wanted to end the pain.
Taking a breath, whispering "sorry.", he let his legs leave from under him. The world stopped. People screamed. He smiled. And seconds later, his body hit the street.