“Do it.” He said.
I placed my hands against the waist-high cement wall that blocked us from the ten foot drop. Leaning over I coughed, hawked, and shot a bullet of snot and saliva into the rushing water; the water that was solid a week prior. He took a pull of our shared bottle of bourbon. Cheap bourbon. “Come on, I dare you!” He said once again, shoving the bottle into my hands. I put the glass up to my lips and tilted my head back chugging the courage from within the bottle. The sun went away, leaving darkness that rested on our shoulders. A car drove past as I stood upon the waist-high cement wall. My shadow glimpsed in the river. Swimming. Dancing. I could hear the familiar slosh of the bottle as I slowly stepped forward. My toes over the edge. “Do it already.” a hushed voice said. An impatient push and a wanting pull.