As Jamie put his seatbelt on in his black Masarati; he put the gear stick in first and drove off towards the Dover Cliffs. Roaring down the A30 hitting speeds of 120mph, he briefly turned onto the M5 before turning onto the A376 towards Exmouth. He was still half an hour away from his destination. Jamie manoeuvred his way round the bendy roads until he reached the car park just opposite the cliffs.
He stepped out of his car and walked over towards the cliff edge. He hopped over a fence that separated the road from the cliff edge. Now he'd started to walk even slower. He reached the chalky cliff edge and looked down. A few droplets of rain fell onto his head, gradually getting more and more frequent. Eventually after almost a hour of debating what to do, and with the rain pouring down, the sky was concrete grey and thundered loudly. A quick flash of lightning broke through the clouds and exposed itself to the storm, he took a few steps forward. Peering down to the rocky shoreline, he muttered:
"I'm sorry, everyone did everything they could. I never wanted it to end like this. Please, God. Forgive me..." and then he jumped.
His body went into free fall as if he was already dead. Then, in a split second, his body lay limp of the rocks. He lay still, not moving. A pool of crimson red blood swarmed round his body, the salty sea water washing it away, and, in turn, the body of Jamie John Jonson washed away into the English Channel.