He was standing above the cliff, looking down at the endless valley. With every step up, the crisp air got colder and his body weakened. The height wasn’t the only factor that made this a difficult climb. It was -29°C, and the snow was falling fiercely. He had come here for a reason.

He placed his foot firmly on a seemingly stable piece of ice. He nearly slipped. He could feel the sweat trickling down his cheek as he reminded himself of the reason that he was here.
Life was not worth living. Life had destroyed him. He thought that Gabriela had loved him. She told him she loved him. He believed her. He loved her with all his heart. She was beautiful and (seemingly) kind. When he found out from her stepbrother that she only wanted him for a visa, he was devastated. More than devastated. He was destroyed. He loved that woman, but she simply saw him as a free pass to the US for her and her family.
Life was not worth living. His twin brother was shot 6 times outside his house when he was twelve. Unable to cope with the death of her son, his single mother turned to drugs. The sizzling of the crack as the pipe was burned by a lighter was the most common noise growing up. Unidentified men entered the house every night, paying for her sexual services in crack instead of cash. He remembered all of them. At 16, he left. He became the one who couldn’t cope with it anymore. Three years later, she had overdosed right on her couch, drooling all over the dusty pillows.

He jumped.

As he fell and fell into the abyss, another memory came into his mind. The memory of baby Elijah, cooing and crying on a plastic crib in the adoption center. Once he saw the innocent baby, he fell in love with him and wanted to raise him. He remembered sending him to kindergarten and teaching him how to ride a bike. He remembered watching him grow from a baby to an adolescent man. Elijah was the only family he had. He loved him. Life was worth living, maybe only for him. For Elijah.

At any sudden moment, he was going to crash into the ground and die. As the ground became more and more visible, he suddenly started to remember all of the good parts in life like university. All the parties and the success of doing well on exams and essays. He remembered his friends, every single one. He was happy back then. He remembered his travels and adventures. He had travelled across the world and met new people everywhere he went. He had learned.

Life had mistreated him, but life was also good to him. Life gave him opportunities and great experiences. As he reflected, the regret began. He regretted jumping. He regretted coming here. He regretted hating himself and his life so much that he was going to end it because of some bad moments and failures.
He hadn’t realized that there is light at the end of the tunnel. He would have dealt with all of his difficulties eventually.
The ground was closer and closer. He also realized that it was too late. He cried. He screamed. He tried to escape it. He couldn’t. The ground was seconds away.

Everything went dark. Was he dreaming? Had he died? No. He couldn’t have.

His body was found four days later.