Marissa+W.

“Hey, get down from there!” Those were the only words I could hear as I screamed in terror. It was the 9th of October, my 16th birthday, the day that is supposed to be every teenager’s greatest day, and it had been for me (so far). I was at the Golden Gate Bridge with three of my best friends and as we were walkin’ and talkin’ and just having a great time we see some person standing on the rail. This person was a tall and petite girl, probably around the age of 20 or 25, she was very tan and had beautiful brown hair with blond highlights that made her look like a movie star. We stood behind her for quite some time and then when I was almost in tears I took a step or two forward and asked, “Ma'am, what are you doing?” The tall lady turned around and said, “I’m killing myself!” She had no expression on her face what-so-ever. It looked to me as if she had been up there for a while. She was shivering. She had mascara barreling down her face, black, charcoal black, liquid eyeliner in her eyeballs – it looked like she had colored her eye with a black sharpie, her face as pale as a ghost with red splotches on her cheeks from crying. I took a step back. I just didn’t understand. “Why are you doing this? Why would you ruin something so special? Why would you just let it go?” I was crying at this point. I was confused, mad, sad, disappointed. I just couldn’t understand why someone could do that. What could possibly be so bad? “What reasons? Every reason! Special? Psh! You got it all wrong! Let it go? Because I need to!” This girl was convinced this was the thing to do. I never thought anyone would actually do this to themselves, to the ones they love, to the people out there they don’t even know. “Please don’t do this!