So far, a young man who is depressed travels to the city of his dreams (New York) to carry out his final act of suicide.
So far it's only a work in progress
My idea for the story is that the prologue is actually what could happen at the end of the story
Dream turned Nightmare
I've always wanted to be something special. Like a lot of people, I'm sure. Maybe a famous writer who pens to next generational phenomenon, or a famous actor, scientist or director. Maybe develop a cure for cancer, or solve world hunger? Sure, I'm smart, but more than likely I won't do any of those things. I've always wanted to make sure I did something with my life, make the most of everyday and live it to it's best potential.
Unfortunately, I don't feel it's going to go that way anymore.
I didn't even bother checking the name of this place on the way up, but here I am, standing over the edge of oblivion. A lot of things brought me to where I am now, but they don't really matter anymore. It's not like it'd make a difference if I told you. At the end of the day I'll end up having the be scrapped off the side of the pavement with a shovel, and the picked up by news programmes the world over: "Missing teen resurfaces in tragic New York Suicide" As I slowly teeter backwards over the edge, I remember reading a book, or maybe it was in a movie, that dying, as sad as it is, is an art in itself. Maybe then I can accomplish something beautiful
Arms spread wide, I begin my decent.