TITLE: Still Here
GENRE: YA fiction
Things are funny after you’re dead. Or rather, after you were supposed
to die and didn’t, and told people things you’d have never said if you
meant to see them again. But you do see them again. You have to.
You’re not dead.
I lean out, over the roof’s edge. Breathe in the city. From here I can
see most of downtown, even the JumboTron on the Blake building. This
past weekend it played nothing but footage of Marlo. Marlo setting off
mini bombs throughout the city and promising big ones. Marlo holding a
little kid hostage, and keeping the cops at bay. Marlo scaring the
hell out of everybody.
Now it just plays footage of me.
Down on the street, the tops of heads and cars drift along. My eyes
close. It’d be so easy. My will is made, everything done. But…suicide
isn’t pretty like martyrdom.
Marlo doesn’t have to deal with any of this, stupid luck. He’s gone.
No worries. No trauma. No—
“Hey. Girl! What you think you’re doin’?”
A large, rough hand grasps my shoulder and tugs. “Hey,” I open my eyes
and try to maintain balance. The guy is old, probably seventy or so,
but his hands haven’t lost any steel. All thick and calloused, with
stubby fingers. I can already feel the bruises start.
“You got any idea how high this is? We’re thirty stories up. Look,” he
yanks me towards the edge for a better look, nearly pushing me over in