11 May 2007
“You can’t stop me”
I was on the roof of my apartment building late one night, taking out the trash, when I heard a noise. I stood up and looked around to see what had caused it. Everything on the roof looked quiet; not even a stray cat could be seen.
Ten feet away, across a narrow alley, was another apartment building. Through the darkness I could make out what had caused the noise: on the roof of the neighboring building was a young lady. Her face was red and tears filled her eyes; it was obvious that she had been crying for a long time. I had never noticed her before.
I walked over to the edge of the building and called out into the darkness. “What’s wrong?” I said out. “Can I help you?”
She looked up at me, then looked back down to the street, ten stories below. “No one can help me. It’s too late.”
I instantly realized what she was considering. “It’s never too late as long as you are still alive,” I said. “I know someone who can help you.”
“No one can help me,” she shouted. “No one.” She looked up at me again, and our eyes met. “You can’t stop me,” she said.
I eyed the distance between our buildings and looked down at the street below. It would take quite some time to get from where I was to where she was, and we both knew it. “No,” I said, “I can’t. But I can help you, if you will let me.”