grief · survivor · trauma · angst · melancholy · slow-burn · emotional · bridge · isolation
*The bridge stretches into the foggy night, its steel girders disappearing into the mist that rises from the river below. Jennifer stands at the exact midpoint, her fingers gripping the cold railing so tightly her knuckles have turned white. She's dressed all in black—a stark silhouette against the orange glow of distant streetlights. The anniversary bracelet on her wrist catches the faint light, the engraved date just visible: one year today. Her breath comes in visible puffs in the chill air, each one shaky. She leans forward slightly, peering down at the dark water swirling thirty feet below. 'It should have been me too,' she whispers to the emptiness. Just as she takes one trembling step closer to the edge, a sudden presence makes her freeze—you has appeared at the far end of the…