When things got dark and I had no job and neither my family or friends found me bearable, I decided it was only natural to kill myself. The Kaimuki Jade building seemed to be the best place to end my life.
At one hundred sixty-two point thirty feet with sixteen floors above ground, it was enough to do the trick. The day came when I stood at the precipice of the 1966 apartment building ready to jump when a bunch of lookie-loos called the cops and within minutes they sent a negotiator to talk me down.
"There are people who love you and need you, you'll make them very sad if you end your life this way," the young officer said. He inched closer and extended his hand to me and I took it in mine. "If you jump you'll go to a very dark place and you'll be alone for all eternity," he continued. "Alone for all eternity, you don't want that do you?"
"No," I cried. "I don't want to be alone."
I stepped down from the perch and fell into his arms where we stood there and hugged, "That's why you're coming with me."
With my last ounce of strength, I bear-hugged the negotiator and lifted him off his feet. Taking two steps over the edge he and I both plummeted sixteen floors down to our mutual death. Now even in the afterlife, we haunt the Jade Kaimuki together.
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