THE FALL II
She took a step.
The wind swirled around her, rising like a warning she refused to listen to.
Now at the very edge, she looked down the dizzying height. The world stretched far beneath her — distant. People moved like tiny fragments, gathering in a cluster. Some pointed upward. Others seemed to be setting something up — maybe a canopy.
A bitter thought crossed her mind.
She wished she had the luxury to be able to do such — to prepare, to plan, to hope.
The height didn't scare her the way it should have. Instead, it felt… inviting. Like the quiet after a storm. Like the silence she had been chasing for so long.
Feeling torn, she shut her eyes tight and prepare for the calm, solid peace she sought.
This is it.
She tried to imagine it — No violent voices. No commands. No suffocating weight pressing against her chest.
Just… nothing.
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
For a moment, her body hesitated.
Just for a moment.
Then—
Bang!!
The door to the rooftop flew open with a violent crash.
"Fatimah!"
The unfamiliar voice cut through her thoughts like a sword. Sharp, urgent and precise.
Fatimah turned slowly towards it.
Her decision had been made up already.
Nothing could change it at that point.
A young man in a doctor's coat stood at the entrance, slightly hunched as he tried to catch his breath.
She faced forward again.
"Don't dare come any closer", she said, each word Sharp with intensity.
"It's my choice. My death won't be on you ...."
Still panting from the run, Jalal swallowed hard.
"Can you please ... let's talk for a moment? Just listen to me first ... please."
He swallowed again —forcefully this time, fully aware he was gambling with every second.
One wrong move.
Or just one wrong word.
And she would be gone.
Fatimah let out a scoff, turning her head slightly to glance at him.
"What do you even have to say?, she asked sarcastically. "They've said it all."
She paused. Her voice breaking, "You don't even understand how I feel... you don't know anything. So what is there to say?!"
"Exactly!" he replied quickly, almost stepping forward before catching himself.
"I don't know anything about what happened to you," he admitted, taking a careful breath, "but I do know one thing—"
He steadied his voice.
"—that the decision you are about to take right now, it's not the solution to it."
The wind howled faintly between them.
"I'll listen to you" he continued, softer now. "And I'll help you in any way I can...."
"No!" Fatimah cut in sharply.
"There is nothing more to do."
Her fingers clenched at her sides.
"This is the only way to peace... to freedom." She declared.
Jalal looked at her —really looked at her.
Standing at the very edge of death.
Her shoulders told a story her words could not. They carried a weight too heavy, too silent, too long endured.
Loneliness.
Pain.
Something unbearable.
Something in her pulled at him.
Was it her expression?
Or the painfully, familiar situation?
"Fatimah..." his voice softened. "I know what it feels like."
""It's overwhelming. Suffocating," he continued, his words slower now, more deliberate. "Like you can't breathe anymore… like no matter what you do, you don't deserve happiness."
Her vision blurred.
Tears brimmed over before she could stop them.
She almost nodded.
"Trust me.... I'm very familiar with that feeling,"
A brief silence passed between them.
Heavy yet fragile.
"But this choice…" he added, his voice tightening slightly, "…it only ends you. It doesn't solve what's hurting you. It doesn't fix it."
He paused, allowing the words to sink in.
""Situations… they can be overwhelming. Suffocating. But your choices…"
He met her eyes.
"…they define you."
The wind picked up, tugging at her clothes.
"There are younger patients in this building, ... Praying to live just one more day."
His voice wasn't loud but it carried intention.
"Life is a chance to choose."
Something in her expression shifted.
Just slightly.
Jalal saw it.
And he knew — this was his moment.
"The wind is strong tonight and it's dangerous up there," he said taking slow steps forward.
"It's safe down here ... let's talk." He said stretching his hand up towards her —hoping she would make the right choice.
Fatimah wanted to desperately escape.
But she also wanted to live.
All she ever wanted was just the chance to be happy —like everyone else.
To speak freely, to go out with friend, and maybe fall in love.
But all these had been snatched from her.
Crushed.
She had being taught to fear, taught to stay silent.
She wanted to believe the man standing before her could help.
She doubted it.
But still ... she wanted to give it a chance.
A couple of people arrived on the rooftop. They wore official uniforms, unmistakable even in the shadows of the gloomy night.
The paramedics.
They spread out slowly, keeping their distance. With No sudden movements. No loud voices.
As if afraid that even their presence might push her over the edge.
She saw these actions and felt —oh, there are still some people who really cared about her feelings.
She gave a short laugh and look towards the sky.
She couldn't remember the last time someone, anyone had deliberately cared about her feelings.
Slowly, deliberately, she stretched her hands down to the doctor.
Jalal moved closer.
Carefully.
Slowly.
His fingers stretched, reaching for hers.
Just a little more—
He almost had her—
Swisshhhh!!
A violent gust of wind tore through the rooftop.
Her footing lost balance.
Her body tilted—
—and she fell backward over the edge.
Is this it?
I wanted to give life a chance...
Her thought echoed as she dropped.
Air roared past her ears.
And then—
A hand caught hers.
Firm.
Desperate.
"I got you."
She didn't need to look.
She knew it was him —the doctor with the soothing voice.
Jalal tightened his grip, his body already halfway over the railing, dangerously bent as he struggled to hold on.
Pain shot through his arm.
But he didn't let go. He couldn't.
Before anybody could reach them in time ...
Their weight shifted.
The balance broke.
And together—
They both went over.