He stood at the top of the roof, his eyes wide open, breathing heavily.
He scanned the horizon, hoping the site would be his last.
He crouched down, knees bent, preparing for his last jump & last fall.
He sprung up from the black tar shingles almost as in slow motion, the wind whipping his golden blonde hair back.
Someone called out, their voice barely a whisper as he seemed to float down to the pavement below.
It would hurt, he knew it.
Yet, it wouldn't be the worst pain he'd felt.
Still as in slow motion to his head hit the ground, neck snapping back, instantly killing him.
His body seemed to crumble & crunch almost like a paper.
He lay there, body mangled, eyes dark, hands cold.