Wet. Cold. Afraid. I hear them behind me, closing in—moments away. Waves slam into the boat, threatening to plunge me deep into the freezing abyss below. I paddle faster. My hands, littered with cuts, stain the brown wooden handle red. I continue forward. Heart pounding. A gunshot rings out. My arm, hit. Blood, everywhere. I scream, the pain is too much. I can feel my grip loosen, slowly letting go of my life force. I hold on. Another shot goes off. My shoulder this time. I can't handle it, I jump. The water welcomes me in. Calms me. Saves me.

Silence is palpable. It suffocates. It deafens. Silence smells of nothing, tastes like nothing, leaves you feeling like nothing. The outsider lives in silence. His lonely body forgotten, left in darkness.

Nearly three hours ago, I met him. His cold eyes stared blankly into the distance. He didn't notice me yet; his mind was preoccupied with the downtown streets one hundred feet below. I could sense his longing, his desire to finally start living, though there was little I could do. I walked over to the edge of the roof, the wind nudging me forward, encouraging me to help. I was scared—terrified of another failed attempt, another one lost. He turned around, mere feet away, and I could see his pain, feel it. I wanted him to live, to not end up like me. I approached him and pushed him off. In a quick motion, he grabbed my leg, pulling me along with him. The skyscrapers sped past as we descended. My eyes shut, ready for it all to finally end. But it didn't. I opened my eyes and saw that the world below remained... below. I felt lightheaded, excited that it had finally happened—I had finally become normal. I turned to my right to thank him, but he was already hundreds of feet away, his wings flapping freely in the air, his pain gone.

My eyes dart around the white room. Its blank, bleak, boring walls, suffocate me, consume me. My head bangs onto the table. The walls turn green. That's better. Again. My head slams back onto the smooth surface of the table. I begin to keel over. The walls become a darker shade. Amazing. One more time. I feel hot liquid dribble down over my eye and slowly run down my cheek and off my face as it lands on the white table in front of me. "Red," I whisper, as if the sound of my voice will remove the beauty that lays before me. I stare intently at the flow of red covering all the white, until everything turns black.