A Tragic Kind of Wonderful(65)



“NOLAN!”

The entire framework collapses and he’s gone.





HAMSTER IS RUNNING

HUMMINGBIRD IS FLYING

HAMMERHEAD IS SLOGGING

HANNIGANIMAL IS CRASHING/MIXED

The skylight looks the same, rebuilt to match the antique original. Like it never happened.

I’ve lost track of time. I don’t remember walking around to the far side of the roof where Nolan started his run. I don’t remember sitting, or making this mound of gravel for the Magic Wand to stand up in. I don’t remember starting to cry. I came to say good-bye, which meant letting Nolan all the way in, and this is why I never do that. I lose my mind every time.

His doctor called it subintentional suicide. That’s when you take life-threatening risks to fool yourself into committing suicide without admitting it. It’s why Sofia got locked up for mixing a bunch of pills without going full overdose. It’ll take her a while to convince them she wasn’t subconsciously trying to exit through the roof.

They said Nolan was having an episode of dysphoric mania, but I know he wasn’t. He was showing no signs of darkness. He was just excited. He wasn’t trying to leave this world, subintentionally or otherwise. He was trying to live in it as completely as possible. It’s a critical difference. Night and day, really.

Mom yelled at Aunt Joan that meds were keeping me from ending up like Nolan, but I was the only one with him at the end, so how could she know? Except it makes sense, now that I let myself think about it. Why wouldn’t I end up like him? My symptoms hadn’t come in a big way yet, but he talked as if he knew they would. We were two of a kind, he’d said. No one understands us, or knows what it’s like to be us, or will ever treat us like other people. We’ll always be ‘special’ and get ‘handled’ so we had to stick together.

The truth is, the skylight only looks scary. I watch people jump this far all the time before school. I’m pretty sure I jumped farther myself with bloody bare feet. Nolan was just goofing off too much. He slipped but didn’t go back to start again. He didn’t aim between the pyramids well enough. And he jumped into the wind. It was just an accident. Bipolar disorder had nothing to do with it. Nolan died because he was a jackass.

But I’m not. I don’t clown around. I take my meds. Everyone thinks they have to keep me under a microscope since I got built with the same broken parts as Nolan, but we’re not the same in the ways that killed him … and now, thinking about this, I know how to prove it …

It’s actually pretty simple. I’m surprised I never thought of it before. The key to everything is that the jump is dangerous, yes, but not impossible. Not even that hard, as long as you take it seriously. All I have to do is make the jump myself. That will prove it’s possible, and that will prove Nolan wasn’t delusional to think he could make it, and it will also prove I’m not the jackass my brother was. They’ll see that I’m not someone to worry about.

All I need to do is prop up my phone on the short wall and record myself making the jump to show everyone later. But first I need to stop crying. Then I can finish what Nolan started and say good-bye— Rattling metal startles me. I stumble to my feet.

David appears on the other side of the roof, from the fire escape.

I put up both hands. “Stay back!”

“Mel!” David calls. “Don’t jump!”

I’m standing near the edge of the building so of course he thinks I’m here to jump off. I’ll always be a ticking time bomb to everyone. Seeing the fear on David’s face reminds me how I was right to hide my diagnosis. The ache in my chest is real, physical … How can my heart keep breaking again and again? It’s like a cat with nine lives, only that’s another way of saying nine deaths …

“Come away from the edge,” David says. “Please.”

If it weren’t for the skylight between us, I’m sure he’d have tackled me already.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I was worried about you,” he says. “It was too early to call. So I … I used the tracker to … you know … make sure you were home and safe. Then I saw you heading out here. I tried texting and calling. Why didn’t you answer?”

I remember now: Do Not Disturb mode.

David says, “I thought you might be coming to visit the cemetery and I wanted to come with you—”

“What?!” I take a step, mostly to keep from falling over. “How …?”

“Joan told me about Nolan.”

Hurricane Joan. Wreaking havoc.

“Mel, please come away from the edge—”

“God! I’m not here to jump off the roof!”

“Promise me.”

“Fine, I promise I won’t jump … off the roof.”

He squints. “Promise you won’t jump anywhere.”

I guess Aunt Joan told him everything.

“Just … leave, okay?” I say. “Just leave me alone.”

“No. Promise me you won’t jump the skylight.”

“It’s … It’s … not impossible … and he thought he could make it—” A sob interrupts me.

“I believe you,” David says. “I’m sure it was just an accident—”

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