Projectory Suicide (Please comment. It's short)

She sat there with legs dangling over the edge, looking down at the

people 40 stories down, who seemed to flock together and flow like

rivers down the sidewalk as the cars flowed even slower. Her tears

dripped down her chin, falling to the ground, into the mass of New

Yorkers. Behind her stood a man who held her fate. He liked to

consider himself, "Projectory Suicidal" wanting death but replacing

his own end with anothers. He longed for an epic death, one that

would leave scarring memories in everyone, yet he would never know, if

it were his own life lost in the act. Instead he chose to take the

lives of others staged as suicide. Many creative executions had been

set, for his own insane suicidal mind was already full of them. In

his home, through the door to the dark frigid basement hid a door.

Concealed behind a bookshelf in his study was a door. This door led

to his asylum, a place where his demonic fantasies of death were

compulsively recorded. Newspaper clippings of scenes he set, tapes of

news stories and reactions of the world. His favorite though was the

affect on the people. Psychological scarring was his ultimate goal,

leaving images of death and pain burned into a stranger's eye.

---He slowly stepped forward towards the girl, and asked, "What would you

say if a complete suicidal stranger landed just next to you as you

walked on towards your pointless goal in another meaningless day of

your life? How would you feel? What if the body landed on you,

killing you. What would you feel if your family member died from a

death wish of another? The intense ripple effect of a public act of

self hate.. It's so pleasing." More tears streamed down her face,

embedding their traces like scars on her face, as the hot crystalline

drops fell, like water to the river of people below.

The man stepped closer still, towards the girl, until she could

feel the cold metal of the gun on the back of her head. She let out a

squeal of fear, choking on her own tears, she knew there was no

escape, her life was at an end. The chilling metal retreated from her

skull, and with a single blow to her back with his foot, she was

gone. He walked to the edge to observe her ragdoll-like body tumbling

down. As she fell, life turned to slow motion, and millions of

thoughts drove through her mind as if they were about to burst out of

her head. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and his alike. He

watched with open eyes, observing every detail of the plan set in

motion, her body grew smaller and smaller, her blonde hair whipping

through the air as gravity and air resistance took their course. Her

stomach felt as if it were going to collapse as the G-forces took her

body by storm. Her body smashed into the crowd of commuters as she

lost all self-realization, all sense, and all conciousness. He

watched as a hole seemed to puncture the flow, and all pedestrians

stopped as the lifeless smashed body lay there, along with the body of

a small child, who laid smashed into the ground under her, and all

around the two lifeless masses was a stain of deep red, which flowed

out, just like the ripple of delusion, which embedded itself into each

of the helpless citizens.