“ e Bridge”, Darian Briell ‘22

e bridge had woken up from its short slumber, and the rst round of cars had tiptoed their way onto the oating road. e rest would soon join, but for now it was only the people of the sunrise. Well–and me. I hadn’t realized the morning had come, too busy wrapped up in memories of the night. e morning was not my friend, and I was anxious to escape its glare, only to return when the loving gaze of the moon found me. Some might call me nocturnal, but for me it is the only way of life worth living. It didn’t seem that way for everyone. I found myself starting to dodge people on the thin sidewalk that lined It didn’t seem that way for everyone. I found myself starting to dodge people on the thin sidewalk that lined the edge of the bridge. Squeezing past another group of morning joggers, I was suddenly stopped at the light green fence that held the bridge in. It wasn’t very tall, as I could easily rest my hands on the railing and stare down at the rushing river below. ere was something tempting about the swirling blue water, the alluring mystery of the deep. e coaxing waves were something all too familiar to me; I had almost let myself fall victim to them many times before. “You know, it’s a long way down. At least, that’s what everyone says.” A voice rang out from beside me. God, I hate morning people. Always wanting to make conversations with people who clearly didn’t want to make them back. “Great, I’ll keep that in mind if I suddenly get the urge to jump.” I turned exasperatedly at the voice, my eyes meeting a semi-familiar sight. I recognized the face as a girl in my 6 P.M. Monday-Wednesday psych lecture—the earliest class I would allow on my schedule. Her face changed with recognition a few seconds after mine. “Hey, I know you. You’re the one always sleeping in Dr. Hill’s lectures.” “Guilty.” I sighed, staring back at the never-ending river spanning in front of us. I was hoping the girl would go away by the time I turned back, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. “I’m Rain,” she offered. “Fitting.” Her eyes were the same color as the water below our feet—blue and swirling. ey lit up with the August sun. She smiled, obviously confused. “What’s yours?” She smiled, obviously confused. “What’s yours?” at is where I met her.

e bridge looked different in the pure light of day. Shinier–showing off every inch of the long stretch of metal. e water was clearer, as if its secrets only existed in the darkness. Halloween decorations littered the fences, a half-attempt to make an already haunted landmark even creepier. Two hands grabbed my shoulders from behind. “I can’t believe I convinced you to go out in the middle of the Two hands grabbed my shoulders from behind. “I can’t believe I convinced you to go out in the middle of the day.” Rain pressed her cheek against mine, her dark hair covering my eyes. “Are you already melting?” she whispered in mock fear. “Oh, shut up.” I pushed her face away, rolling my eyes. “Why did you drag me out here again?” “To have fun, because these nals are kicking my ass. ank whatever lord is watching for winter break coming up soon.” “Still doesn’t explain what we’re doing on this stupid bridge,” I countered. Rain huffed, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the edge of the bridge. “Well, don’t yank me over the edge. Haven’t you heard?” “ at it’s a long way down?” She nished the sentence for me, grinning. Her eyes gleamed bright blue. “So, should we throw rocks over the edge to see how long they take to hit the water?” “And why would we do that?” I raised my eyebrow, a bit concerned at the notion. “Why not? Come on, I have rocks in my pocket.” She reached into her jacket, which clanked with the motion. “Okay, wow. Not even going to ask this time.” at is where I loved her.