Escape

One day two weeks ago I worked late. That's not very unusual. At my internship there were many days where I would work late. Nine, 10, 11pm. Once or twice until early in the morning. This particular day I had gotten off at around 4:30am. I was tired and all I wanted to do was go home and forget about having spent my night not in bed, but at the office, while the art directors on the projects had gone home a long time ago. So I left in after work mode. I didn't think of calling a cab. I walked the empty streets to Market Street where I normally catch the train - which has now stopped running. I'm almost at Market Street, halfway down the block when I hear a loud thud and the high pitched tension snap of the steel bus power lines. As I look 40-50 feet behind me I see a big lump that looks like an oversized duffle bag. I couldn't quite make it out (I didn't have my glasses) but in the back of my mind the truth raced. I slowed and stared. No possible way. Seriously, who dropped the duffle bag? A few cabs sped by and almost ran him over. No duffle bag. A man. He jumped or fell or was pushed from the 12+ story building under construction. I couldn't stop thinking about him. But there was no mention of him in the news. No blurb in the papers. I found nothing. Who are you? What happened?

I have to be honest, I have thought about it before. They say everyone has. A solution, an escape, an answered prayer. Flight. A flight to take us away. I remember moments in my past riddled with helplessness and hatred and confusion. I remember wanting it so badly but being too scared. All I could think now is was he helpless and hateful and confused? What was he getting away from?