Monday 11.14.2016
Big Island, Hawaii
Josh's house is pitch-dark like a dungeon I dare not to re-visit, not even a slightest hint of light visible because the light bulb on the pole in front of his house is dead and it is too far for the light from the living room of his neighbor's house to escape the barricade of curtains to cross the road like jumping over a roaring river between two rocky cliffs. At 8:30 PM this neighborhood is quiet as a cemetery without residents. Even the wilting plumeria on the muddy ground is begging for permission to hell.
Josh's beat-up Toyota is not in the cracked driveway where he usually parks his car. He must be still at work, hopefully without any sweet, lingering thoughts about our last night together. Those will be the most treasured memories I would carry to the other world where I truly belong.
Oh Josh, please forgive me for leaving you this morning without a kiss to return your generous love, for lying to go to the photo shoot appointment with Kayla, and for exiting from your life, FOREVER. It might feel like a stab into your heart but trust me, it's for the best. For you, for Kayla, and for me. The truth is that I am not adding any value to your lives or to this world. Disappearance is the best gift I can
Crap, Josh's coming home! The swooshing sound of his 2001 Toyota was unmistakable. Scribbling to finish the last sentence, Emma darted into an alley with her journal and pen in one hand and the purse in the other, barely inches away from the blinding headlight of the car.
Phew! Almost got caught because of her stupid Hypergraphia. Obsessive writing certainly didn't work out in a situation like this. And the flash...should she take a pill just to be safe? Emma slowed her breath, resting a hand on her chest after finding a safe hiding spot around the corner of Josh's house. Everything would be be okay, Emma. She calmed herself down and started thinking.
What's next? Oh right, the airport. Ever since she was old enough to ride alone, she had memorized the bus schedule by heart and knew the drivers by name. Hele-on Bus only went to the Kona International Airport once a day at 8 in the morning, which meant she needed to spend the night somewhere before the bus came tomorrow. Then she just had to make sure the driver didn't see her when she got on and tip off Kayla and Josh afterwards.
Emma had taken wedding photo shoots at every resort along Ali'i Drive, so finding a sofa in a resort for the night was a breeze. As Emma stretched her legs on an ottoman at the corner of a quiet patio, she decided to forge ahead with her plan. First thing first, she needed money for a flight ticket. Credit card? No, anyone on the run knew that was like leaving bread crumbs on the trail. Speaking of which, forgetting her cell phone at Josh's house was quite a nice mistake. "Find My Phone" would instantly ruin this plan. Digging further into her purse, she found a ten grand check, the price she'd won in the national photography competition. Ahah! good thing she didn't clear the purse after picking it up from the post office. It would be terribly lame if Kayla found out she couldn't afford to die.
When she sneaked onto the bus and headed towards the airport the next day, Emma was terribly tired and drowsy, but the bill strap nicely tucked in the purse boosted her confidence in this impromptu trip to the city she'd been wanting to visit since the first time she saw its iconic landmark on a travel magazine. Jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge in a postcard view of the San Francisco bay was the most beautiful death she could ever imagine.
Tuesday 11.15.2016
San Francisco, California
Cash made everything easy. The 5-hour flight, however, ended too soon to compose solid ideas for Emma's plan. What she added to the journal, was just 20 pages of the word "suicide" to satisfy her urge to write.
In the lobby, crystal clear glass stretching from ceiling to the floor looked like an invisible lure, drawing her closer to check the height to the ground below. No, that would only create an ugly scene, not to mention the photo of a big fat chalk figure on the newspaper. But going straight to the bridge seemed too much of a hurry at the moment. Come on, she had a once-in-a-life-time chance, literally, to spend ten thousand dollars however she wanted. There must be plenty of places to blow it in this beautiful city.
Pamphlets on the display case at the information booth confirmed that Golden Gate Bridge was a must see tourist spot, though none mentioned its fame as one of the most popular suicide locations in the world, of course.
"Are you okay, Miss?"
A sturdy voice woke her up from 30 seconds of vigorous hand shaking. A hand appeared in front of Emma's face, waving to check if she was okay.
"Yes. Thank you." It was a miracle she could manage to pronounce these three words. Inhaling deeply to reduce the heavy breathing and pounding heartbeats, she quickly looked down to avoid any eye contact with whoever witnessed her embarrassment.
That was when she saw that her purse had fallen to the floor during her unconsciousness, exposing the money on its flap. With clumsy hands and twitching fingers, Emma shoved the money inside and picked up the purse.
Still keeping her gaze down, Emma automatically reached inside the purse for a dose. She had forgotten to add the new drug to her emergency supply, but these should save her from an unexpected collapse that would ruin the plan, according to her past experiences. Turning straight back, she walked to the refreshment counter for a bottle of water with pain in her tight arm muscles in every swing as her walk.
"Wait! Do you need help or direction to somewhere?"
She looked back, totally caught off guard by the owner of that voice and hand walking towards her. A man in a light brown uniform was coming close, looking a bit concerned.
"I want to go see the Golden Gate Bridge." This well-rehearsed line to cover up the sole purpose of this trip slipped out of her dry lips like a reflex.
"At this hour?" The man arched his bushy eyebrows, finishing the three words with a "you must be kidding me" tone, but still sounding friendly. He was about fifty, moderately wider in the middle like a cuddly teddy bear.
How nice. Follow his words and everything would be okay. Cognitive malfunction could only produce this thought at the moment.
"No, miss, what you need now is a good night's rest." He prescribed without her inquiry, as if he was sure Emma wouldn't object.
The man continued with a self-introduction, "Hi, I am Tim. I am a MUNI bus driver." He angled his shoulder slightly towards her, petting the orange logo patched on the uniform as an identity authentication.
"I am off work now. I know a good hotel I guarantee you would love." He showed off his wide grin, revealing some stained teeth. "Don't worry, it's on Market street and you can Google its rating."
"Golden Gate Bridge and a lot of other signature landmarks are on my 28 route. If you don't know how to get around the city," He scanned Emma from head to toe, including the purse, as if she had the word "tourist" written all over her, "you are more than welcome to come on board tomorrow."
Without uttering a word, she obediently followed Tim out of the protection of the illuminated arrival hall of the San Francisco International Airport to the unknow dust of a chilly November.
