“Are you really going to do it?”
An overly energetic field reporter shoved a microphone in her face, nearly hitting her in the nose. Caitlin confirmed this with a look of disgust as she moved away. The reporter seemed thrilled by her misery, beaming into his notebook with a grin that spoke of promotion.
“Hey—Cait!”
A young man stumbled toward her from the crowd, cheered on by several of his rowdy friends as he approached her. A couple reporters swiveled toward the two, and the boy gave a jerky thumbs-up into the cameras. The eager gentleman from before exclaimed the word “lovers” and several other cameras joined the action. Fueled by the attention, the young man grabbed Caitlin roughly around the shoulders, forcing her toward him for a close-up. Cameras clicked everywhere for an unexpected picture as he doubled over in pain. Writhing on his knees, he was caught by a blow too quick for cameras; as Caitlin’s heel returned to the ground she continued with a deep scowl toward the building.
Her boots clicked on the freshly waxed floor as she paced inside, immediately hailed by a police officer.
“Careful M’am,” he choked out through his pastry. “Floor---wouldn’t want you to slip.”
“Miss Ross to you,” she replied coarsely without slowing her steps, “Never will be old enough for you to grant me such a worthless title.”
“Suit yourself, missy.”
The sight of the officer was blackened as the elevator doors closed, finally freeing her from the obnoxious cheering of the crowd outside. Her eyes scanned the lucid buttons with bleak interest and she stood on her tiptoes to punch the topmost digit: 101. She then leaned back with a dreadful sigh, having to listen to the joyful music for what would be the longest minute of her life before the elevator chimed to a stop. Her heartbeat began to quicken as she stepped out onto the roof, the crying of people once again smothering her thoughts. She began to feel unusually dizzy as she made her way toward the end of the rooftop.
“And now my life is supposed to pass before my eyes, right?” Caitlin chuckled nervously, apprehension clenching her throat to a whisper. She blinked her eyes shut for a moment, before spitting out the question she’d longed to ask: “What life?”
The girl hoisted herself onto the edge with more energy, flashing a rare smile toward the crowd below as the uproar climaxed. She then positioned herself with care, as a professional swimmer would, upon her skyscraper diving board. Twisting her body to the side, she pushed off gracefully and sweet silence met her in a rush of wind.
****
