Sight

Chase took a long drink of the coffee next to his drawing tablet, savoring the taste and heat. While winter had come late and stayed almost into April that year, their spring had barely had a chance to allow the blooming of flowers before Summer began forcing its way in. However, as usually happened each year in Missouri, the weather couldn't seem to decide what it wanted, hence the uncommonly chilly July evening: 48 degrees.

Many of the residents of the Willow Way Apartments had found jackets that they'd intended to keep locked up until October or so, and donned them once more. For Chase, this meant pulling out one of his faithful hoodies, and throwing it on while sipping coffee and enjoying open windows in his bedroom. He glanced out of the window behind his desk at that moment and dully noted the storm clouds that were gathering and blocking out the gathering stars, casting the world below into a deep blue, virtually black.

While he liked the rain, he couldn't help but dislike the cloudy cover. He enjoyed the sight of moonlight streaming into buildings and over parking lots far more than the darkness that clouds left behind.

Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was already late and decided to grab some dinner before winding down for the evening. He snatched up the smartphone, shut the window and began scrolling through restaurants that were open all night. While eating in his house was par for the course most nights, he was seized by a sudden desire to sit down somewhere. After several long moments, he made a choice and threw his hood up as he walked outside, remotely starting up his car.

As he climbed into the car, it connected to his phone's bluetooth and began playing the song he'd been listening to automatically, and Chase smiled drumming on the steering wheel in time to the music. The rain sent down steady drops on the windshield and Chase felt himself struggle internally slightly as he began driving.

His car, as much as he liked it, only had two speeds for the windshield wipers. This meant that when it was only lightly raining, the wipers were going far more often than needed. To most people, this might be no big deal, but it irked Chase somewhat. Ever since he was a very small child, he could remember hating the sound of the windshield wiper rubbing against a dry windshield, and made sure to avoid the noise when he was in control of the car.

As such, it meant he didn't want to run the wipers automatically, even on their first-level setting. However, he also couldn't very well leave them off entirely, or he eventually wouldn't be able to see. The only solution that provided itself to him was to manually activate the wipers every thirty seconds or so. This kept his attention divided between actually driving and activating the wipers when his view began to become obstructed.

He hit the main road and squinted slightly, trying to determine where the lanes were properly located. The rain combined with the streetlights and stoplights meant that it was extremely difficult to try and make sense of the lines on the pavement. As his first song came to an end, he absentmindedly skipped forward on his phone, trying to find a new one he felt like listening to.

Without really thinking about where he was going, Chase drove down to the main road and onto the highway, his hands automatically following the path they knew they had to take. As he merged onto the road, the rain began pouring down hard and fast, and soon he had to put the windshield wipers on their high setting to try and see through the pouring gale of water. Luckily there weren't many cars out at this time of night, mostly a few truckers who were making deliveries and the occasional car.

As he settled on a song choice, he looked back up properly and had to almost slam his brakes to avoid rear-ending a semi-truck that was going about 45 miles per hour. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the slow diver, storm or not, he checked his blindspots and moved over to speed up and pass the man, still feeling his slightly raised heartbeat.

As he moved down a couple of exits, he started to relax again, letting the work of the day and momentary panic of his near accident wash out of his system. He was doing fairly well, even if the rain wasn't letting up at all. However, the other factor of the storm was the wind. Even in his car he could feel it pushing against the vehicle. He constantly had to pull the steering wheel slightly to the right to keep going straight, though it did nothing to stop him from feeling the gale.

Then came the first flash of blue lightning and Chase felt his heart skip a beat. Up until that moment he hadn't really considered where he was. He knew the highway and their exits well enough that it was second nature to navigate him. However, the flash of lightning, aside from illuminating the road, had shown him something that was rapidly approaching him.

It was the bridge that crossed the Mississippi river.

It was only then that Chase was hit with a sense of déjà vu that hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest. Without really thinking about it, he put his hazards on and pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway just before the bridge, unbuckling and getting out in a hurry. It wasn't actually a decision that he made. He didn't consider what he was doing or if it was the right thing. He'd been here too often in his dreams to consider anything else.

As soon as he moved out of the car he felt the full blow of the wind, which was blowing hard enough to threaten to knock him off his feet and force he to push hard against the door to close it again. The rain began to pour over him as if someone were dumping bucket after bucket on top of him and he threw his hood up over his head, already breaking into a run.

This time, he was certain he would get there in time… he had to. Abandoning any pretense of sense or logic he began sprinting down the sidewalk as quickly as he was able, squinting against the rain in an effort to try and see towards the middle of the bridge, where he knew she would be. Trucks roared past him, dousing him with even more water, soaking through his shoes and socks and numbing his feet. He didn't care though, he merely kept running as fast as his legs would carry him, calling out into the wind; but his words were muffled so much that even he could barely hear himself.

He had no idea how much father he had to go, or how much time he might have. He only knew that he had to get there. He continued onward and there was another flash of blue lightning and by its light, Chase saw her, standing on the opposite side of the railing from him, examining the rushing water below her.

Her hair was billowing about wildly in the storm and she was clutching the railing behind her tightly, her body attempting to fight her mind's desires. Chase yelled out her, but knew before he even managed it that it would do no good. He was too quiet, too out of breath, to shout over the storm even if he were within ten feet of her. Instead, he focused all his strength and energy on reaching the woman.

He was close now, within forty feet. He could see that her entire body was shaking violently, and not from the wind or storm. She let go with one hand and tried to take a step, but her fear overtook her and she held even tighter to the railing with her other hand. He was maybe twenty-five feet away now, waving his arms furiously to try and get her attention, but she was too focused to notice him.

He put on the last spurt of speed he had and as he got within ten feet of her, she let go of the railing, spread her arms, closed her eyes and began to fall. Chase screamed and flung his arms out, desperately praying with every fiber of his being. He had no words, no coherent thought of idea, only a desperation that filled every speck of himself.

Then there was a strong smack in his hand and out of instinct he clutched, feeling some strong fabric in his right hand. Whatever it was, it was heavy, but still easy to grip in the pouring rain. Instinctively, he reached down grabbing at it with his other hand too. Without seeing exactly what he'd grabbed he threw his right foot onto the railing for support and pulled with all his might. The woman was fairly slender, but pulling up the weight of an entire person was difficult, and even when she'd realized what had happened, it still took him a couple long minutes.

As he got her up level with him, he looked at her clearly for the first time. Her eyes were a bright blue, which he could make out even by the light of the trucks passing them. Her medium-length hair was dark, but not black. She was wearing a black leather jacket, which was what he'd actually caught as she'd fallen. Then, his mind caught up with the moment and he realized she was shouting at him, gesturing wildly.

He couldn't hear everything she said exactly, but he heard more than enough to understand that she was furious with him. Panicking, he tried furiously to think of something—anything he could say that wouldn't sound completely insane. Then, he felt a sharp pain on his right cheek, and grunted in pain, though he managed to keep his grip on her jacket.

He saw her left hand withdrawal and realized that she'd clawed him. He managed to push down the urge to shout at her, and finally opened his mouth, without even knowing what he was about to say.

"You can't jump," he called out, not even sure if she could understand him. "You just… can't jump."

Her eyes locked onto his and for a long moment they stood like that, only the railing and pouring rain between them. For a while, they seemed locked in a stalemate. He refused to let go of her sleeve, she refused to join him. They stared at one another for what seemed like ages, but Chase found he had no words. It was a silent battle of wills and neither seems to want to give it. Finally, after Chase's hands and long grown so numb that he wasn't sure he even could've let go of the jacket, she swung her feet over the railing, joining him on the sidewalk.

"My name's Chase," he said, feeling very stupid, and pointing down the way he'd come. "My car's down there. You should get warmed up."

She glared at him and for a moment, he was afraid she would hit him or refuse. However, she finally seemed to deflate a little, and her shoulders slumped as she looked down at the ground.

"I don't care. You need to go away."

"I don't think I can," he said, hoping it sounded kind, even as he shivered involuntarily. "If we're going to talk. Can we at least do it where we can hear each other?"

She looked down the bridge towards his car, and nodded softly, before pointing at her wrist.

"Let go first."

He looked at her, almost reluctant to do so in case she decided to try and jump again. However, something in the back of his mind seemed to whisper, and he let his fingers go slack as she ripped her wrist out of his grip. Then, they walked towards his car, still flashing its hazard lights: a beacon in the dark night.