Jump
Hastings teenager, Tom Bruges, walks home with friends, when…
The stairs that lead from George Street to the West Hill always knacker us – even only being 16-17. We decide to rest a moment and look at the stars while we catch our breath.
I point out Orion’s Belt, they point out how disappointingly not-straight it is. As we’re waiting, we start to hear some shouting – a man and (possibly) his girlfriend. Turning around we can see at least one of them. But it’s late now, we’re heading home, so this could only be a sign we’ve been out too long.
PICTURE: Ben Brugges
But they’re on the cliffs so we wait it out a second; the shouting was quite loud, but we can’t make out much of what they’re saying. We laugh nervously, wondering what to do. We’re not sure. It’s their life … but they seem drunk… “Could they be in danger?”
We can’t intervene: it would just made things worse. We were about to go, had even turned around to start walking when we heard: “Jump.” That’s all we needed to become glued to the spot.
Then, “I’ll jump”. Now things were different. This wasn’t just two people arguing anymore. We heard a bit more, maybe “drunk” or “high”. Either way this has got too serious to just ignore or walk away.
We call the police, give all the details we can and hang up; they’ll be on their way with blue lights shortly. We mutter to each other for a bit, and then: “Do we stay?” I don’t know. Do we stay? I’m thinking that it’s out of our hands now but, “What if, you know, one of them…” So we stay, whisper to each other a little and wait for the blue lights.
One of us wants to get closer to try and make out what they’re saying, but we know it could only escalate things if we’re seen. A little while later a few flashlights wander up the path to the cliffs. We’re walking away now, but as they flash on us for a second, we all point and wave our arms towards what we saw. They turn and head on.
Done. We walk for a bit, then split and head home. An odd way to end the evening. Even weirder way to begin the easing of lockdown.
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