Light

"Sometimes I just feel like none of it's worth it. Like... like I'm an empty shell of a person and there's no reason for me to be here."
"How did you get these pills, Alice?"
"Someone at school."
"You're sixteen, how could you..."
"Dad, please. Just leave me alone for now."
"Ali, I'm sorry. I... I'll be right back."
I stand from her bed and uneasily walk toward the door. I seem to be seeing three of everything. Oh god, this is heart-wrenching. Where's Susie? It seemed so impossible that my sixteen-year-old daughter could be suicidal. But it's not impossible. It's not, and I know that. I can't leave her alone right now. What am I doing? I turn on my heel and barge back into her room and find her on the floor weeping silently.
"Ali, baby, please."
She's lying on her back on the hardwood floor with her eyes closed, arms and legs mindlessly sprawled out and tears streaming down her ice cold cheeks.
After a moment, she opens her eyes and looks at me. Nothing but sheer pain and grief in her eyes.
"Dad-"
"No, Ali," I cut her off, "Please, just listen to me. Can we sit?"
"Okay," she says dryly.
We sit lifelessly on the bed next to each other, and I brush a piece of hair behind her ear. I look into her eyes and see the pure sadness and hatred she must be feeling. This is real, I think, she's not overreacting. I need to help her. There is no pain greater than that which you see your daughter's ultimate unwillingness to be alive.
"I have a story I'd like to share with you, Ali."
She gives me a slight nod while blinking slowly, looking awfully exhausted and run-down.
"Okay, well..." My mind wanders. I'm pulled back to a time twenty years ago.

"You're fired. I'm sorry. But you have to go."
"Mr. Donaley I just don't understand, and either do you! I need this job!"
"Jonathan, we're going to ask you to leave now and if you don't we'll call security to escort you out."
"Okay. Fine."
I walk out of the building and it's freezing. The snow is coming down lightly but the air feels like daggers slicing through me. I fumble with my keys trying to find the right one for my car while walking through the parking garage to what was formally known as my parking spot. 
"Fired. I just got fired." I say audibly to myself. I can't believe it. I need to force myself to process it, but I can't. When I get to my spot, my car isn't there. 
"WHAT THE FUCK!" I scream, causing my voice to echo loudly through the vacant garage. 
I now have no job, no idea where my car is, and no money to get it back anyway. What else can you expect in the city, right?
"Fucking awesome," I mutter as I walk towards the exit of the garage, "It's gonna be a long ass walk home."
I walk through the city as mother nature blankets it with soft, fluffy snow. It's about six pm and already dark. I'll have to walk about three more blocks, cross the bridge, and then two more blocks and then I'll be home. Home sweet home. My shitty one bedroom apartment with barely any heat which, hey, I won't even be able to afford soon! Can't wait! 
It doesn't seem like that far of a walk, but in the crisp, rigid winter air, it's a journey. 
As I get to the bridge, I can see that it's basically empty. No one likes to spend a night like this outside when they can be warm and cozy  inside. With the exception of a few random cars and one psychotic biker, I only see one person. They're far in the distance from where I'm walking, but they don't seem to be moving. What are they doing? It's hard enough to stay warm out here while you're moving and exerting energy, but standing still? They must be nuts.
As I get closer, I can see that it's a woman and she's crying. Is she lost? Did she lose someone else? What is wrong? I'm only a few yards from her now and can see her much clearer. As the thickness of snow in the air clears before me, I can see that she is not standing on the sidewalk of the bridge, but over the edge. 'Holy shit,' I think, 'she's going to kill herself.'
"Excuse me?" I say without thinking, now only three feet away from her at most.
She practically whips around in shock that someone is on the bridge or even acknowledging her at all. Based on her current circumstances, I'm guessing she doesn't get much acknowledgement. 
She doesn't say anything, only whimpers in recognition. I have to say something else.
"Are you okay?" Dumb fucking question, jackass, clearly not.
She shakes her head rapidly as more tears stream down her cheeks. A car passes us quickly and in the swift second that the headlights shine over us, I get a clear look of her face. Wow, she is beautiful. Tragically beautiful. She's wearing a thick winter coat with a scarf and knitted hat. She has long, brown hair that is basically frosted from the snow and her face looks like that of a porcelain doll. She's flawless. 
'Well, clearly not, jackass' my subconscious screams at me. 'Do something.'
"I can help you," I coax, stepping closer to her but not too close to scare her. "I want to help you." These kind words must be alien to her.
"You can't," she almost whispers, her voice raspy and hoarse. 
"Why not?" I ask.
"You don't know me," she says, which causes more tears to run down her milky face.
"I'd like to," I say wholeheartedly, "You're very beautiful." 
I can practically see her stop breathing. She blinks at me a few times before responding.
"Thank you," she mouths to me, but no sound comes out.
"Would you like to go for a coffee?" I ask, somehow forgetting that she's not really looking for a date but for something else.
A look of confusion and surprise spreads across her face. Damn, it's cold. I can feel myself beginning to shiver and my teeth chattering. I step closer towards her and decide to take a risk. I put my gloved hand over ungloved hand that's holding onto the metal railing. "Please," I whisper, and a tear from her cheek falls onto my leather glove. It seems impossible to me that she could still be crying because of the temperature, but then I'm proven wrong by my own tears falling from my eyes. Why am I crying? I look into her eyes and I have my answer. 
I'm crying because this is a woman I know I could truly love, and I may not have the chance.
As she's looking into my eyes, tears still flowing, she closes hers, squeezing them tightly. She moves a little to the right and carefully turns around so she's fully facing me. She pulls her legs up over the railing and climbs over so she's only inches away from me. 'She's safe. You did it.' my subconscious whispers. Impulsively, before I can stop myself, I'm kissing her. I pull her close to me, and regardless of how cold she is her body heat feels so good radiating onto me. The kiss isn't exactly passionate, although it kind of feels that way, it's just more of a thank you. A promise, even. 
I pull away and slowly open my eyes to see she's looking at me.
"I got fired tonight and I don't know where my car is."
And for the first time I hear her laugh, and I swear to god it's the most heavenly noise I've ever heard in my life.
"My mother just died," she says after she stops laughing. "Cancer." No one's laughing now.
"I'm... I'm so sorry," I say. 'Don't cry,' I have to mentally tell myself, 'Be strong for her.'
"I feel a bit better now," she whispers, and kisses me. 
When she pulls away I can't help but smile. It's a smile that spreads all the way up to my ears, and I finally see some color flush into her face.
"Coffee?" I ask.
"Yes, please."
We begin to walk off the bridge in the direction I came.
"I'm Jonathan, by the way."
"I'm Susie."

By the time I finish the story, I realize I'm in Alice's room and I'm crying. So is she. She's staring at me with a little more life in her eyes than before.
"It was... mom?" She asks.
"Yes, Ali. It was mom."
She begins to sob now, uncontrollable sobs that cause her to collapse onto my lap, her muscles numb with pain and her heart finally allowing her body to release the ache.
"I'm sorry, dad," she says in between sobs.
"Don't be sorry, Ali," I reassure her, unable to contain myself as well. "Twenty years ago, if your mother had jumped off that bridge I wouldn't have met her. Hell, I may have even killed myself too. And in that case, you wouldn't have been born, and either way your mother and I would be miserable or dead. You need to see how important you are," I can barely speak I'm crying so hard. I haven't cried this much since that night twenty years ago. "You are our reason for living, Alice, you are always someone's reason for living. And one day, you'll be someone else's, too."
I allow her to cry in my lap for what seems like forever but is probably only a half hour. After she is done, she falls asleep in my lap. I think I follow.

It's probably midnight now, and I wake up in Ali's bed with her laying next to me, sleeping a soft, deep sleep.  I quietly get up from her bed and look at the clock. Yup, 12:15. I walk out of her room and head downstairs. There's one dim light coming from the kitchen where I can hear Susie making coffee. She must have gotten home while we were sleeping. I enter the kitchen and see her in her robe and slippers, just as beautiful as the day I met her. I can't stop myself, not that I'd want to, from throwing myself at her completely. I grab the back of her head and the small of her back as she turns to acknowledge me, cutting her off from any 'hello' I was about to receive. I kiss her with more passion than I think I've felt in years. God, I love this woman, and it took so much for it to be re-imprinted into my mind. I am so, so lucky to have not only one, but two incredible women in my life. I didn't save Susie that day twenty years ago, she saved me, and I am pouring all of those feelings and more into this one, single kiss.
When I finally pull away, I stare down into those two beautiful eyes I've loved since day one.
"I love you," I whisper, not looking away from her for a second.
"I love you, too, Jon." She's smiling. "What's wrong?"
I pull her into my arms.
"It's a long story, I won't bother you with it now. I just need you to know how much you mean to me, and how happy I am you're alive."
A light bulb must click on in her head, and another half smile spreads across her face.
"I have you to thank for that, Mr. Morris."
"Quite the contrary, Mrs. Morris." I kiss her again, but this time it's soft and lovely. "Let's go to bed."
I switch off the kitchen light as we head up the stairs and I can faintly see from the living room window that the city is being lightly blanketed with a sheet of soft, fluffy snow.