Suicide Hotline

Your phone rings and you pick it up. Just another caller at your boss's office? No. One person, in one second, of one minute, of one hour, of one day, of one week, of one year, of one lifetime picked up the phone. They dialled a random number. They wanted someone to listen, and this phone call would be their "note". Those people are me and you. And your phone just became a suicide hotline. But can you talk me down from the edge?

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1. Hello? Is anyone there?

"Hello? Is there anyone there?" I whisper through the phone, afraid of what the reply might be. The wind blows through my hair, and I tuck one lock behind my ear.

"Hello. This is ...... from Mason and Sons construction company," you reply, sounding a little bored.

"Hello ..... May I take a moment of your time?" I ask, my voice wavering. Am I afraid? No. Am I confused? No. Am I embracing this? Yes.

"Of course. What can I do to help you?" you respond.

"I need someone to listen. And I need someone to tell my family," I say.

"Okay... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"My name doesn't matter. I'm here to say goodbye."

"I'm sorry. I don't quite understand," you say clearly into the phone.

"This is my note. It's what most people do, don't they? Leave a note..."

 

YOU HAD NO IDEA WHAT WAS ABOUT TO HAPPEN.

 

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