“A man jumps from the fortieth story of a building. As he is passing the twenty-eighth floor, he hears a phone ring and regrets that he jumped. Why?”
Scott had lost everything that day. Any emotion, any thought, any reasoning, everything. It was late, the snow was coming down in piles, never ending. Everything around him was frozen, as if he was in a winter palace. There was a beauty to it all, seeing the glimmer and sparkle of every objects reflection. Yet that night, the beauty was stained… tainted.
It had been a long day, taking his wife and daughter to the winter ice festival. Jenna was only eight years old at the time, but she had a magical fascination with the sculptures. She imagined that each one had a spirit inside, waiting to melt away and break free to an eternal kingdom. That is how she imagined most people were as well. Just spirits living inside a body, waiting to be freed.
It wasn’t his fault, no, he had just lost control. The car slipped on a thick sheet of ice, refusing to budge, throwing itself into the guardrail. The grey color was covered in a sheet of metallic white, which gradually darkened into a red-black.
Scott was left alone with nothing but his own spirit. He was isolated, hated, and was forced into the idea that he pushed the two people that took up his heart into the grim reaper’s hands. He closed himself off from anyone who attempted to help him – he was gone beyond repair. His heart was torn to shreds, everything ripping him apart. His mind was lost in the dark, begging him to set his spirit free. That day, he listened.
As the brick rushed past him, and he began to embrace the upcoming concrete, he heard a familiar tone – one he had been waiting months for. Then he realized.
It was the hospital.
His daughter had woken up.