Happiness Is Subjective

• Charlie Coy, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2022

I stand with bated breath on the ledge. The clear water shimmers below. I’m overwhelmed with strong emotions- anger, sorrow- and that’s what pushes me to take the step into the air. I am acutely aware of everything going on around me. I feel my balance shift. I can sense the eyes on me, pitying. Wondering what I’m running from.
I’m free falling. In stories, people always say that just before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. I always thought it was a myth.
Now I see it was not. All the things I was trying to escape, I can feel them. They envelop me, try to bring me back up to the ledge. They can’t. I watch as everything I thought was bad turns sweet. I realise, far too late, how happy I was. My heart seems to burn as the cold morning air whips at my face. The ground below seems to rise up to meet me. But everything is moving so slowly. My eyes sting as I keep them open, embracing everything I can see, knowing it will be the last time. I realise the sounds were muted as I was falling, but they come into focus now. Loud horns, drivers yelling, children screaming. The bustle of the big city. I watch the businessmen walking to work, carrying their briefcases, their phones to their ears. The buses ferrying children to school. The buildings, all grey and black, but beautiful in their own way, the sun sparking off the shining glass windows.
I inhale the Sydney air, embracing the smells I had previously taken for granted. I exhale just as I hit the water. Pain rushes through me but instead of pushing it away, I welcome it, the last thing I will ever feel in this life. I feel the moment where my heart overloads and I stop breathing. I smile to myself as the whispering darkness closes in, taking away all my pain and suffering.