Bridge Between
A moment from my life
I had dumped him a week before; this call wasn't what I expected.
He was gone.
He overdosed on heroin, leaving behind his family and a letter.
As I held the letter, I knew I didn't want to open it, so I cast this paper to the fireplace, never to know the last words of this man.
I was told he took all his things and placed them in the hallway, accessible to anyone; he wouldn't use them anymore.
I lay in bed and fell into a dizzying and sweat-filled dream, the clock read 5am.
I see a bridge, and it's snowing. Underneath this cobblestoned bridge is a rushing River where the snow does not touch. Instead, it is a bountiful collection of flowers and bushes. I walk to the bridge, step onto the bridge, and attempt to step off on the other side, and I'm met with a wall of energy prohibiting me from leaving the bridge on that side.
As I loiter on this bridge, my cat, Tiny Tim, appears from the side I can't go across to. Weird, as Tiny Tim had passed away years ago. I picked him up and petted him. He jumped down and disappeared back to his side as my grandfather appeared.
My grandfather had passed away two years previous, and we sat and talked about the War and his paintings. He couldn't come to my side, so he retreated to his side after telling me he loved me.
Finally, he appeared. He looked as young as he was old, preserved at the age he was when I left. He gingerly stepped towards me, lifted a hand, and immediately withdrew. “I’m sorry” is all he could say. His head was down so that I couldn't see his face, but all I wanted to do was hug him and beg him to come back with me. He wasn't supposed to be here. He looked up as if he could hear my thoughts and shook his head. “I’m happy here. I'm with my little brother, and I'm happy.” I sighed as we stood on the bridge, looking at each other. Nothing more to say, but so much left unsaid. He looked over his shoulder and back at me. “I have to go, but I'll see you again.” He backed away as if he didn't want to stop looking at me and was gone. I ran to follow him, though I couldn't.
A man with a blurred face appeared at this time. He was in a plaid red shirt and jeans. He spoke, “Do you trust me?” he asked. I nodded my head yes. He grabbed my hand and led me to the railing of the bridge. He asked again, “Do you trust me?” My voice was sand in my mouth as I nodded. He helped me up on top of the railing. One last look at him, he asked again, “Do you trust me?” I squeaked a “yes,” and he pushed me into the rushing River.
I awoke from this dream, covered in sweat like I had fallen into the river. I looked around, and I was in my bed; I wasn't on the bridge. I had been forced off the bridge between life and death. I wondered if I would continue to come to that bridge if it meant it was my time, the time on the clock said 5:01am.
I would have that same dream for eight more months. The conversations were different, but overall, I saw the same people and always ended up in the river. Now, over ten years later, I remember that dream and wonder why I didn't say, “No, I don't trust you.” Would that have changed anything?
I'm older than he was when he died, and I have lived to the best of my ability. I know I've had an angel, him, with me the whole time and I have asked him to step away and allow him to forgive himself because I forgave him all those years before. That chapter was just the beginning; I have so much left unwritten.
About the Creator
Jazzy
Follow on IG @booksbyjaz
Head of the Jazzy Writers Association (JWA) in partnership with the Vocal HWA chapter.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
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Comments (34)
Wow, Jazzy! This is so compelling.
Such compelling storytelling! I felt sad, heartbroken. I loved your imagery and symbolism which hooked me right in. Do you trust me? was such a powerful recurring moment, as was the fact that you never said ‘no’. Sorry for what you have experienced, but you have created something beautiful from tragedy 🥰
Dark, gritty and deep with powerful imagery, my kind of work. I love it!
I was extremely impacted by the emotional journey portrayed in this sad book, which masterfully conveys the nuances of loss and the need for closure.
What a compelling story!
I dream of loved ones who have passed on all the time, and I'm constantly drawn to those who have encounters with NDEs, or make contact with the other side. You have a gift.
Wow, Jazzy, this was super spiritual and touched so far into the Beyond. I want to know more; wishing I knew the contents of the letter. This was deep. Your dreams were vivid, and the symbolism was rich. Thank you for sharing, very moving!
Beautiful writing! It brought back the memory of a poem I wrote about a ‘bridge experience’ - “lonely, he stood upon the bridge, to contemplate existence; he looked behind; he looked beneath; he looked into the distance.” The longer poem is here: http://sonneteer155.com/2014/11/28/vague-forms/
This is a sad and lovely piece, Jazzy. Truly courageous writing. Congratulations on top story! Dreams are very powerful, laden with emotion and meaning. Shortly after my father died, I dreamt that all the most important women in my life gathered together in a single room. I was the only male present. My wife and daughter, my mother and my father's mother. After a knock at the door to the room, my mother's mother and sister entered the room. Both of my grandmothers were long dead and yet as my grandmother entered the room, I hugged her and began to weep as I told her my dad had died. Then the dream ended. That was the true beginning of my grieving for my father. Eight years later I still dream of him. Ironically, he is easily 20 years younger in my dreams than I am now. I suppose the grieving never truly ends. I hope you do not mind my sharing, but when I really connect with a piece like your, I usually need to write about it.
Woah, this is so heartbreaking but very powerful. Well done.
This was heartbreakingly beautiful, Jazzy. You captured the essence of grief wonderfully with your writing! Thanks for sharing.
This piece is incredible, and heart wrenching. What an amazing job you did expressing the pain and heartache of your loss, yet what a beautiful perspective you have. Thank you for sharing this piece of yourself with us, Jazzy.
Imagery was so creative. Well done!
So much left unwritten, unsaid in our lives. Beautiful telling, touching and connective. LOVE this!! ❤️
Wow. Incredibly touching, and insightful. An awe inspiring continuous dream, it’s amazing the impact they can have. This nearly brought me to tears. Thanks for sharing, it’s amazing to read that hope in places of struggle.
captivating, and emotional. Congratulations
Congratulations on your Top Story❤️🎉
this was captivating, and emotional. Congratulations
awesome loved it! Congratulations on Top Story!!!♥️♥️💕
You jumped right into that mid-life threshold experience, and expounded it for all its heartbreak and hope. That was truly beautiful. My brother just recently almost went over that edge, but came back and got help. I'm sorry for your loss, but it seems to have been transformed into hope.
Heartbreaking, yet beautiful. Congrats on the TS.
So heartbreaking. Congratulations! 🎊 This is phenomenal. I absolutely love your writing style.
This is wonderfully written. I can feel the pain etched subtly between each word. I am very sorry for your loss, but this is a stunning tribute to his memory.
My favorite thing you’ve published. 🩷 I’ll reserve further commentary for our Little Chat.
This is so sad, Jazzy, and also really beautiful. ❤