Chapter 0: The Needle

“When you’re standing on the ground staring up, the Space Needle looks like it reaches to the ceiling of the earth but when you’re on the top with your feet dangling off the beams around the safety grid of the observation deck, especially at night…

And there I was, looking down to my festively lit destination where I could just barely make out the multicolored ants in the darkness ignorantly moving from one little building to the other. Walking or strolling, biking or jogging their way through their meaningless life without a single thought of the uselessness of their every action. I even humored the notion of letting one little ball of spit chase to the ground in hopes of landing on one of the sheeple.

Sure, I could have picked a better structure in the great city of Seattle to be pining about my last moments on the planet. I could be sitting on top of the Columbia Center, Seattle’s largest and darkest building. In fact, if you’ve ever taken an Argosy waterfront cruise, your ship’s host would happily inform you over the loud speaker that the Columbia Center is the second tallest building on the west coast and stands seventy some stories tall.

I could be perched on top of Union Square, looking down at Freeway Park or peering over the edge of Seattle Municipal Tower or Key Bank Tower or whatever it’s called these days. Seriously, I could be on top of any of the buildings seen from the tip of the needle, Jackson Federal Building, any of the bank centers, Rainier Tower, even the cute little Smith Tower down in Pioneer Square that looks like the little brother to all these obelisks but was once able to claim the title of largest building west of the Mississippi.

Yeah, I could be on top of any of those buildings, ready to leap to my final landing spot, even with their security and protective measures. After all, my feet were ready to lead me off the edge of the most notable manmade monument of the Pacific Northwest. No, I chose the Space Needle for a very specific reason. The kids absolutely loved coming here.

So there I sat, avoiding the cries and heckles from the safety of the deck stretched out miles behind me. Staring down the darkness, letting the wind run its fingers through my hair and brush the tears from my face. The chill stung my cheeks and my throat was raw. Not from the weather but from screaming up at God, demanding and begging that he justify his actions, howling with despair at every unanswered plea.

That’s when I met Samuel. That’s when the world came crashing to an end.”

God's Tears

"Why God?!" My hands thrust toward the sky and dropping on my knees to the muddied earth below me, I cried out louder, "Why have you done this? What have I done to deserve this hell?"
But no answer came. No remarkable sign or wash of feelings, just me, firmly in my place within the same soil from which I was supposedly created. Why then does the ground not bleed as I pour red from my engraved wrists which joins the rain and runs toward the grass like lightning looking for ground.
"I'm done with you! I'm not calling out to you for forgiveness, I've done that too often. I don't want your damn help anymore, I defy you! I deny you! Come on you wicked bastard, strike me down! I'm a sinner! Stop making me suffer and just punish me!"
I thrust my chest out, arms back; offering a target to the clouds and with clenched fists, I scream, "Strike me down! Punish me for my sins! My suicide is my last act of treachery and still you do nothing! I dare you, cast me down to Lucifer's infernal pit for my actions! You are nothing!"
Yet, there was no lightning. No earthquake. He didn't even send a runaway semi truck to plow me down. Nothing struck me but the weeping of God's tears streaking through the skies, striking my face and intermingling with my own pain, though, by this time I could no longer feel their thousands of little assaults.
I stewed in my own emotional Armageddon with silence and stillness as I bled out from the ends of my arms for an eternity. Suddenly, I noticed a sensation that had been with me for a while as my face gained a utopic warmth and a chaotic pulse of pin prickling brought my awareness to my gashed and gaping wrists, though my sight was dimming and I couldn't witness the crimson waterfalls. My ears caught the movement of dozens of invisible bees. It was no sooner than this point that God had finally decided to answer my challenge as his voice cut through the swarm, "I'm here to help you poor child."
By this time, my eyes have gone and my mind was following, so I couldn't glare into God's face. To double my rage, the dirt below me pulled all of my strength from my body so I was too weak to throw my fist but I intentionally radiated my immeasurable hate. Not even this deterred the almighty one from attempting to saving me by offering.....to call for paramedics?
My ears were the last to fail me and I was finally fully cloaked in the warm void.