She moved forward decisively.

There was a pine scent in the fresh night air, and pine needles, wet with night dew, pricked my bare feet, but it seemed more like a slight tickling.

The night forest was fraught with a whole range of sounds: a light rustle of leaves, the sounds of a cricket, the crackling of dead wood and the indignant voices of disturbed birds.

The forest was very tiny. Rather, not a forest, but a forest, so she quickly crossed it and found herself on the opposite side of it.

Here, her feet touched the cold asphalt of the pavement above the river. How often has she imagined this moment lately, and her further actions in this place. The girl stopped to catch her breath and listen to her inner feelings. Her whole body ached, and the constant heat pounded her body with a hellish tremor. In that state, it was difficult to feel anything other than this all-consuming pain. The whole world ceased to exist.

After taking a few steps along the rough, cracked asphalt, she firmly grabbed the railing with her hands like a bird with her claws to hold on to the thin crossbar.

She knew that the most terrible feelings of hopelessness and the pain of realizing an incorrigible mistake, seized when a person crossed the line of no return, but was still able to realize the horror of his last act.

From such a few minutes ago, a clear sky, a strong thunderclap was heard.

She shuddered again when a calm male voice was heard nearby.

— Why are you here?

The girl slowly looked in amazement at the tall, dark-haired middle-aged man with an expression of serenity and harmony on his face. He was unfamiliar to her, but his question sounded light and natural, like a conversation of good acquaintances. Her eyes had time to adjust to the darkness, and she tried to get a better look at the stranger.

—I ..., I ..., walking.

— At night?

— Yes.

— Barefoot? - the stranger asked curiously, carefully sliding his eyes over her silhouette.

— Yes — she answered in the same monosyllabic way.

— Okay, but I didn't ask what you are doing here, but why are you here?

— I ..., do not intend to report to anyone.

— Impudence is better than what you felt a moment ago.

— How do you know how I felt? — With a slight challenge she answered, but at the same time imbued with some inexplicable trust in this mysterious stranger.

— Sometimes it's obvious. I know why you are here.

— Really? — asked with disbelief, but curled up from another attack of pain.

— You're not going to swim, are you? You generally do not swim well - said the man confidently, as if it was an undeniable, well-known truth.

— Where are you from...?

He stopped her with a hand gesture.

— I’m just familiar with the attempts of people to avoid suffering at any cost, but this is only a path to gaining eternal suffering.

She looked down at the dark waves of the fast-flowing river raging in the intensifying wind.

— How do you know me? Have you followed me?

— I follow many? — he smiled. — But I met you by chance and understood everything. Consider this my gift of providence or my punishment.

She tried to get a better look at him, but the shadow served as an additional disguise for his face. She could only listen to his measured and absolutely calm voice.

— I still don’t understand ...

— So you are not allowed to understand. Many people cannot understand themselves. You are a coward to live, and in the same way you are afraid to die.

— Why are you ..?

— Is not it so?

She was annoyed by the stranger's manner of interrupting his every phrase, and even more by the ability to delve into her own thoughts, which he understood almost better than herself.

— You can't know anything. I would not be surprised if you are the fruit of my sick psyche.

He was next to her in a moment, grabbing her tightly in an attempt to throw her down over the railing.

She desperately resisted and screamed, suddenly realizing that she was not ready to do it ... At least - now.

— You see now? — Suddenly let go of her stranger with a smug smile at the corners of his lips. — You shouldn't be here.

Frightened, she jumped away from him a few steps back, and ran back through the forest.

Two weeks later.

She sat on the bed with her hands clasping her knees as usual, and tears of joy and hope streamed down her cheeks, from the words of her doctor, standing in front of her in high spirits.

—Yes, your tests are very good. I would even say: surprisingly good. Reparation processes are proceeding at an accelerated pace, and with such dynamics we will have to dismiss you for outpatient treatment one of these days.

— Is it possible? — Raising her green confused eyes full of tears at him, she clarified, fearing to revel in false hope and fearing that she would not wake up the next minute regretting for a happy dream. — You said that I was doomed and there was no more hope?

— Miracles happen — the doctor smiled.

A few days later, picking up the discharge at the nurse's post, she saw - "Him". There could be no mistake, because it was definitely “He”. His photo was attached to the medical history on the table.

— Who is this? — the girl perked up, feeling trembling in her hands at the recollection of their conversation on the bridge.

— Who? Oh, that, — the nurse waved her off — One of the former patients.

— Why ex? Has he recovered?

— He died in this department more than a month ago, — the nurse said with a doomed sigh.

—How more than a month? — asked the girl in surprise, because their conversation on the bridge took place a little more than two weeks ago.

— Yes, — the nurse summed up sadly, turning the story over to the other side, hiding the face of this eternally young and handsome man with his soothingly calm voice and a special gift to read other people's thoughts ...