- Books, Literature, and Writing»
- Commercial & Creative Writing»
- Creative Writing
Kendra's Brownstone Suicide
~ ONE ~
God must've been crying the day Kendra found her courage, climbed the steps that led to her old brownstone's rooftop, and with reservation, jumped over it's side. The sky, at first a cornflower blue, turned grey as it watched her body fall to the pavement below. Dew-like drops that threatened passers-by as they rushed to work in the traffic-congested city, fell indiscriminately upon her crimson stained blouse, mingling finally with a pool of red - Kendra's blood.
The puddle spread, as the raindrops increased in speed. Like an accordon player's act of expanding her accordion, it grew. Strangely, it formed a halo around Kendra's upper torso and head. In sweet sadness she remained there; her body twisted, but relieved of its pain.She was an Angel loved by God, yet fallen from grace. Kendra's body stayed there until the city's finest, Detectives Joe Sargent and Nate Baldwin, called to the crime scene, found her.
"Joe, we got anudder crazy broad here. It's simple. Her old man dumped her and she couldn't handle it. Jumped to end the hurt."
Joe Sargeant looked up. Witih a honed agility, he scanned the brownstones discolored bricks. His hazel colored eyes, shaded by the brim of his fedora, scaled the roof's ledge for a sign of foul play, intent. He noted nothing out of the ordinary. A decorated servant of the city, he'd trained aggressively to turn up every detail, to overlook nothing. Cases that came to he and his partner Baldwin, often found him working into the wee hours of the morning; hours when only the homeless slept easy.
Re-positioning himself, his eyes dropped to the dead girl's mangled body.
'What in hell's name made her do something stupid like this?' he thought.
He shook his head and turned away, letting the forensic team continue its process of collecting evidence.
"So what d'ya think, Joe? Suicide pure and simple, right?"
"It may not be that simple, Nate."
Nate Baldwin, often quick to the draw in his investigative technique, was really a good detective. Joe wouldn't work with any other, even if a million bucks was placed on a table before him. For ten years, he'd worked the roughest crime scenes on the dirtiest streets the Big Apple could offer. Nate had been there at every one. Having a good partner on these streets meant much. It only took one false move for 'man down' to happen. He didn't want that for his partner, nor for himself.
"I'm headed up to the roof."
Moving briskly to the brownstone's heavy, ornately carved door, Joe glanced at the growing crowd of city dwellers, some already identified as occupants of the brownstone; some just nosy onlookers hoping to go home with a sensational story. One individual, a lanky, glasses wearing, African American young man, caught his attention. He seemed out of place, detached a bit, yet knowing. Letting his gut instinct lead him, Joe made a mental note to interview the man at a later time. He clutched the doorknob and turned it to the right. It opened slowly, but easily and he stepped into the dark interior of the building. Eyesight focused, he ascended the stairs. He reached the rooftop and opened a second door and assessed the layout. Two silver air condition units encircled by yellow crime tape, sat stodgily a few yards ahead. Speckled grey and white gravel littered the roof in variegated patches. Joe stepped onto the roof's tar splotched surface and slowly . . .
. . . ever so slowly, Kendra walked towards the roof's edge. As she passed by the large air condition units, hot air shot out and up at her, warming her bare shins. The flouncy, almost sheer layers of her rara skirt blew inward, wrapping around her form. Sweat from between her soft, brown thighs trickled toward her ankles. She felt afraid; had felt afraid of many things in her short life - of getting pregnant, of what others girls thought about her, of falling into the grips of drugs like her peers. Most of all, she'd been afraid to make choices - right or wrong. Life, hers, made her feel like a failure. And why shouldn't it? No one cared about her anymore. Not even Ad'e. He never had.
"Why, God? Why did I have to be the one so down for him? Why did I have to care about him so much? Momma warned me not to get involved with him, but I was too stubborn. I loved Ad'e, God. Why did he leave me? Why did you make him choose that bitch over me?"
Kendra took tiny, baby steps until the brick ledge of the brownstone met her knees. Making sure not to look down for fear she'd lose her nerve, Kendra turned around to face the path that had led her to it. Opening her arms wide like the wings of a bird in flight, she inched back and in seconds her medium frame broke the invisible barrier and fell to the white sidewalk that connected to the Safeway parking lot and Noble Avenue. As she fell, she wondered where Mrs. Haig was. She imagined scurrying squirrels and cayenne pepper sprinkles as she fell.
'Goodbye, Mrs. Haig. Thank you for always believing in me. I just can't try no more.'
With this last thought in her mind, her pretty eyes closed and she was no more.
Years later, Detective Joe Sargeant would recall a smile graced her lips. It would haunt him forever.
Facts About Suicide
- What Do You Know About Suicide?
Information about Suicide is important because our Youth consider it too often as an end all solution to their troubles. The Trevor Project is one of many sites that gives us the information we need to have a better understanding of this subject.