MEETING OF THE MINDS

WRITTEN BY SF
[Email : funnlim(AT)gmail(DOT)com]

Note
This story was previously posted here on 30th October 2001. The link may not work anymore. It is reposted here with consent by the author. The author encourages feedback on this story and thanks you for your comments.

This is a story about an encounter between an old lady and a suicidal young woman at a bridge during the midnight hours which exposes the strange fate that binds these two women together.

 

 I do not know how I should start this story about my life, because it isn’t really about my life. I was never good at introducing myself and I am still unable to tell you who is the real me, or rather who was the real me. I could begin with where and when I was born, how many heart break I went through but all are irrelevant to what I should be telling you. For some years I had quite forgotten about that night but as the years passed, I realised I could never forget, I simply pushed it all aside.

I remembered everything clearly now, but that was because I realised what had had happened. Only when I have such realisation could I finally see the true fact of myself; who I was and how my life could have been if I hadn’t listened and now how I shall be for the remaining years of my life. I never believed everybody born would have a distinct purpose in life, but perhaps I have one. I dare not think about the future; I have none, not at this moment because I have to look back at my past. But at least I have sorted out my past and am aware of my present. How could I tell you how I came to such a conclusion of clarity? How can I tell you the logic of it all? I can’t, but I could tell you everything that happened that one night many years ago.

The very first thing I remembered, as I looked back now was her voice. It was gentle, soothing, and almost kind, and yet accusing. I felt like I owed her an explanation for what I was about to do when I first met her, but I refused to acknowledge that. To me, nobody cared about me anymore, I was alone, I was penniless and I had nothing, nothing to lose if I were to jump from the bridge. But when I was about to take the leap into my own early demise, I heard her voice;

“STOP!”

I do not know why I turned my head towards the commanding voice, insisting I stop doing what I have been wanting to do for years, I wondered how she could have stopped me. But she did and I remembered when I looked back towards that voice and my gaze came upon an elderly woman with the kindest face and yet with the determined eyes, I stopped. I wonder now how I could have seen her face so clearly and realised she stood right under the street light. In retrospective, I know why I stopped, but back then I didn’t. I always told myself, by looking back over my shoulders, I have begun a new phase in my life, and now I wondered, what if I didn’t look back? Would I have done differently? Would this person that is me cease to exist and so ends the cycle of my life? But then, did I have a choice?

How shall I tell you about my conversation with a complete stranger whom I have knew along? Because I was too arrogant? Because I was too naive? Perhaps I shall venture to tell you what really happened that night, when I stood at the edge of bridge and turned my head towards that voice that told me to stop.

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