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You can't take it anymore.
It's all too much.
When you walked out to the bridge the night was dark, clouds rendering the moonlight inaccessible but since then it had started raining and the cold wind was blowing it all against your face making it sting just slightly less than the fresh cuts in your arms.
You wanted to end your life at home but there was always SOMEONE home and you didn't want anyone interfering. You can't have anyone mess this up. Not this time.
You arrive at the center of the bridge. The lamp post allows you to see the ledge you want to stand on but not how far the drop is nore the water of the river you hear rushing below you. You steel your heart and you step up onto the ledge and carefully step down to the other side of it, leaving only your heels supporting your body up. Your heart is pounding out of your chest and your survival instincts kick in making you want nothing more but to go back but you're determined this time. You can't fucking handle life anymore. You feel useless, hopeless and you keep repeating to yourself that this is for the best.
A car approaches but you don't notice over your panic and the sound of the rain that has picked up and started pouring heavily now.
As a result you don't notice that it is in fact a big fancy limo, nor do you notice that it has stopped right next to you.
You close your eyes and you can't tell if it's the rain or a tears running down your face when you put one leg out.
But just then a man rushes out of the limo and shouts.
“Hey!!”
You get so startled you immediately try to recede into the ledge as much as you can, gripping the top of the rail as hard as your hands can allow.
“Hey Miss what are you doing? Get back over here!”
His voice sounded that of an old man, you cringed. Creepy old guys out this late calling you Miss didn't make you feel much like giving life a second chance. Suddenly there was a shadow over your face. You turn your head to see the old man was holding his classy black umbrella over your head, resulting in his nice black tux getting soaked.
“You don't have to do that. You're getting all wet.” You croaked out. Your voice wavering from the lump in your throat.
“It's okay, I don't mind. You seem to need it more.” The old man’s toupée stuck flat against his head, it made him look a bit silly. “Now why are you out here sweetheart?”
You turned away from him and look down at the dark abyss. “Isn't it obvious?”
“Come on woman, this is no place for a pretty young girl like you.” The man put his hand on your sleeve, you pulled it away but he grabbed the fabric.
“thanks but you don't know me…”
“I know that I have no way of knowing what kind of life you've had but I know what it's like to feel like you're at the end of your rope. I know how it feels to think you have no other options in life but to just wait to die…” the man stood next to you now on the other side of the railing holding your sleeve with one hand and the umbrella over both of you with the other.
“But if I would've given up then I wouldn't have my excessive wealth that I have now. Now I have a beautiful wife, 5 lovely children and I'm the president of the United States all because I never gave up.”
You roll your eyes assuming this guy is either lying to make you feel better or is just delusional. “Easy for you to say, you must have had a lot of luck to get so rich. It seems like no matter what I do I never get anywhere. I'm too stupid for college and without a degree I'll never get anywhere in life.” You remember back to how miserable you were when you were still in school.
“It's never too late for college maybe you were just not ready yet but either way you don't need a degree to start a small business. Lots of people find success without a degree.”
You look back at him, his suit did look pretty expensive. What did it matter though? This is just some idiot rich guy who’s never understood what real suffering is. But to be honest you didn't really feel like dying. You feel like the moment was ruined, you didn't want to end your life in front of this old guy who just meant well. You shift yourself so you can step over the rail. The man doesn't immediately understand and firmly grasps your arm.
“Hey!”
“It's fine. I'm not gonna jump. You can leave.” You mutter while you get back into the sidewalk.
“Do you have any place safe to go?” He asked in a hushed tone. You don't really trust him that much since he's some creepy old guy but your impressed that he'd ask something like that.
“I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Well I mean, my family's not that bad I guess. They don't really help with anything and just make me feel like shit but it's dry and I get fed.”
The man looked deep in thought.
“Would it help you to stay somewhere else for a little while?”
“Oh, you don't have to do that. It's fine really, it'll be fine.” You fake a weak smile. You're frustrated he's still here even though you stopped trying to kill yourself, his job should be done.
“Are you sure? I want you to be happy. You don't have to stay for very long I just want to make sure you don't hurt yourself.”
You chuckle internally thinking 'too late for that haha’ but you glance to the side seeing his vehicle in the light of the street lights. The longest limo you’ve ever seen in your life. You can see the driver in the front messing with his phone and a security guard next to him keeping an eye on the man. Maybe he wasn't kidding about his wealth.
Well staying with a millionaire sounded kind of fun and since you don't think you're really gonna live all that much longer do you might as well take the opportunity.
“Well if you're really okay with it… I would really appreciate it.”
“Atta girl” the man pats your back and shows you towards the limo, walking ahead of you so he can open the door for you but not so much that the umbrella moves from above your head.
The two of you take a seat in the spacious vehicle. In the light of the limos interior you get a better look at the man's face. Your jaw nearly drops. It really is the 45th president of the United States, Donald Trump.
You look at him wide-eyed “wow. You really are the president. I thought you were just lying or something.”
“No, it's me. I assume you already know the name of your president but what might your name be?”
“It's [y/n]” you answer.
The driver of the limousine rolled down a black window and turned his head to Mr.Trump.
“And where are we taking this little lady Boss?” He asked in a thick New York accent.
“Home.”
The driver had a slight surprised expression but turned around and rolled up the window without saying anything.
The two of you rode mostly in silence, you we're spending most of the time looking out the window watching the city get washed by the rain which developed into a full-blown storm at this point. This whole thing felt so fake. This morning you decided this was going to be your last day on Earth and now you're in the limousine of the President of the United States on your way to his place of residence.
Donald Trump occasionally gave you some worried glances but he mostly stocked to browsing his Twitter feed on the ride home.
The two of you arrived at his mansion fairly late at night. Or rather early in the morning. The driver opened the door for the two of you and gave the president another umbrella so you each had one.
“You're lucky I was coming home so late. The time differences in all the different countries are so inconvenient most of the time but this time it's a good thing.”
“Oh… yeah.” You were trying to think of something more to say but just then Donald had opened his front door revealing a breath-taking foyer. The floors were all marble and there were two staircases on either side of the room leading away to hallways. On the ceiling there was a magnificent chandelier, set to a dim light as they were expecting Trump but didn't wish to wake his whole family.
“It's awfully late [y/n], I hope you don't mind if I change into some dry clothes and go to bed. I'll show you to a guest room and I'll have Delilah bring you some sleepwear l, will that be alright?” Donald asked looking at a grandfather clock near the wall that read 2:15am.
“Yes, of course… thank you Mr. President.” You replied gawking at all the fancy furniture and architecture.
“Please, you can just call me Mr. Trump it's fine.” He said as he walked you down a hallway in the right wing of the building to a guest room.
The room had a high ceiling and marble floors but there was a large white rug in front of the bed. The bed was queen sized and had a canopy. Across from the bed was a lavishly carved dresser with a mirror. There was a bathroom attached to the room so you wouldn't have to worry about getting lost if you had to pee during the night.
“Wow, it's amazing Mr.Trump, I really don't deserve this…” you felt guilty. There are so many people out there who work hard and do great things for humanity. And here you are getting to spend the night in this lovely palace just because you're selfish enough to want to kill yourself.
“Nonsense sweetie, I can tell you've been through a lot. You deserve something like this every now and then. And once you've worked as hard as me you'll deserve it every day.” Mr. Trump let out a chuckle but then looked serious. “If you need anything at all just ring the bell next to your room and someone will come help you. If you need medical attention or water or something don't be afraid to ask Delilah. She's night shift you're not bothering her it's her job to help okay?”
You feel awkward from receiving this much attention but you appreciate it nonetheless. “Yes Mr.Trump.”
You walk into your room and the president closes the door for you. You look around a little opting for the bathroom first of all.
The bathroom is the nicest one you've ever been in in your whole life. The bathtub alone is huge, as large as the hot tubs usually are at hotels.
The mirror was large, a little too large for your liking, if it was up to you you'd rather not have one altogether. The sink was very clean, a stark contrast to how it usually is at home. You look through the drawers just to see what's there. There's a wide assortment of soaps and shampoos. Your eyes are caught by the shaving kit but to both your relief and dismay the shaving razor is not the kind where you can remove the blades. Well not easily at least.
Once you finished your business in the bathroom you find there is a woman wearing a maid outfit in your room. You figure it must be Delilah.
Delilah turns to speak to you.
“Welcome to the Trump residence Miss [y/n]! I hope you enjoy your stay. I laid out some pijamas for you, I think they'll fit. It's not a big deal if they're too big right? But of course if they're not good go ahead and give me a ring and I'll try to find something that fits better.
You walk over to the bed and pick up a large pj top she had put down on the bed and gave it a look.
“oh it's fine. Thanks so much.”
“I'm happy to help, Mr. Trump said you may be in need of medical assistance. Shall I call someone for you? Our private doctor should be available even at odd hours of the night.”
You felt embarrassed that Mr. Trump would tell his servant something like that but it was understandable.
“No thanks, I think I'll be fine.” You believed what you said, although you'd cut your arms quite a lot, none of the cuts were really all that deep. You cleaned them out the way you usually do so there want too much of a risk of infection. As far as you were concerned, no one needed to see those arms but you.
“Very well. Feel free to ring the bell if you need anything.” And with that Delilah left.
You notice a tray with a pitcher of water and a cup has been placed on the wardrobe.
Although trying out the bathtub sounds very nice you're very tired and decide to go to sleep and take a bath tomorrow. You take off your sweater admiring your arms a little bit. It's fucked up and you know it's fucking weird to cut so much but your arm just mesmerises you when it's covered in injuries.
You pull on the pyjama top over your head, disappointed it's short-sleeved. You're not sure what you're going to do tomorrow when you have to talk to someone again but perhaps they'll provide you with clothes and you can ask Delilah or someone else for a jacket or something. The pants fit just fine and weren't lose or tight at all thankfully and you crawled right into bed. It was so soft and luxurious and this whole ordeal had tired you out so much you were able to forgo the obligatory 2 hours of lying awake remembering all your regrets in life and were able to drift off to sleep in minutes.
You awake the next morning to a knock at your door. The sunlight filters in through the white lace curtains letting you know it's morning. You hid your arms underneath the covers before giving the person at the door permission to come in.
The fancy wooden door was opened by a middle aged white man with black hair, dressed sharply in a suit with a tailcoat. He bowed and wished you a good morning.
“Good morning Miss [y/n]. Mr.Trump had to go to a meeting but he will be returning some time this afternoon. In the meantime he has entrusted me to help you around the house and provide any assistance I can.”
“Oh. Thank you.” You mumbled, still sleepy and trying to regain recollection of how you even got there.
“Mrs. Malania Trump and Master Barron have already eaten breakfast and are out doing publicity work at the moment so we have prepared the dining hall for you if you care to eat breakfast.”
You didn't feel very hungry at all but you might as well check out what kind of foods the president gets to eat. However you did want to cover up your arms with something before going out and having to face the rest of the people in the mansion who may not have heard any details on your arrival.
“Um, is it okay if I get dressed first?” You look over at your sweater and pants that you had draped over a chair the night before. The sweater had some bloodstains on the sleeves that had now darkened to an ugly brown and the pants looked to still be a bit damp.
“Of course madam, come with me and we'll find you some more suitable clothes.” The servant eyed the clothes on the chair as well. “In the meanwhile we'll get someone to wash those for you.”
“It's fine really you don't have to do that.”
“Ma’am I insist you come with me, you simply cannot be wearing clothes like that in the home of the president.” The butler seemed quite stern about this so you had no you're choice.
“Fine.”
You slowly got out of bed and the butler turned around and lead you out of the room with a “This way please!” and lead you further down the hallway and up a staircase and then another hallway until you two reached a green door with a golden handle. Opening it there was a marvelous walk in closet about four times the size of your room. The walls on the left were filled with suits of different sizes and styles and on the right was a gorgeous rainbow of night gowns probably all belonging to the first lady. The back wall was filled with folded fabrics and clothes. Your eyes lit up at the wide assortment of clothes wondering what kind of garments you would receive.
You look over to the butler who lead you here and he is greeting another man who looks slightly older than him but wearing an almost identical uniform save for a different colored tie.
“Ah, so you must be [y/n], he said turning to you. Mr. Trump let me know this morning that I would be providing something to wear for you. I have several outfits picked out already and you just tell me which one you would prefer alright?”
“Um, okay, thank you.” You reply quietly. You look around and keep your arms behind your back so no one has to see them.
The man lead you to the back of the room where there were several changing rooms and a rack of several colorful dresses for you to try on.
“Mr.Trump usually doesn't use the changing rooms but we find most guests like their privacy.” The tailor said as he opened up the door to the changing room for you. He put the first dress in your hands and closed the door behind you.
The dress itself is very cute and you would love it if you were prettier. It was a red dress with short sleeves and a sash in the middle. As cute as it was you didn't feel comfortable wearing it.
“Um, sorry, but do you have anything with long-sleeves?” It was hard to work up the courage to ask that but the tailor was enthusiastic about helping.
“Of course madam! Would you like a dress similar to the one you have in there now with long sleeves or something else entirely?”
“Something else please.”
The tailor went on to pass you several different dresses and outfits and you decided on a laced cream colored top with long sleeves that exposed your collar bones matched with a deep blue long skirt matched with some white and blue sandals.
“You look stunning madam! You're almost ready for breakfast!” As he said this a woman wearing a red women's cut suit entered the room from a door on the other side of the room approached.
“Hey sweetie! I'm Mackenzie and I'll be doing your make-up today!” For a second you pitied the Trump family. This much dressing up every single day even if they're just going shopping or something.
You followed Mackenzie into the side room, enamored with all the beauty products. You had always you could splurge on high quality make-up even if you don't wear it all that much. She sat you down in front of a well lit mirror and got to work finding the right colors for you.
She wiped off your face with some fresh smelling cleaner and gave your face a generous amount of foundation.
“I was thinking maybe a more conservative look with maybe a slightly blue eyeshadow to match your skirt, what do you think?”
“That sounds perfect thank you” you stare at yourself in the mirror pitying the makeup artist. You must be the hardest face she'd ever had to work with.
You close your eyes so she could get to work and when you opened them you were impressed. It's like someone completely different was staring back. You felt pretty.
“I'm going to do your hair too if that's alright.” Mackenzie informed you but you could only nod. You were too preoccupied with staring at yourself in the mirror to pay attention.
Mackenzie brushed your hair and then put like a million different sprays and gels in it making it very shiny and silky smooth and eventually tying it up and curling the bits that fell out of the updo.
You looked nicer now than you did at prom, you felt like a long lost princess who didn't know she was royalty until this very moment. When Mackenzie allowed you to stand up you spun around and admired yourself to the delight of Mackenzie.
“Thank you so much, you did such a good job!”
“I'm happy I could help.”
You look at yourself in the mirror more but shortly the fist butler arrives and you remember breakfast. You find that you're actually feeling kind of hungry after all this.
“Our tailor and beautician have done a great job madam. Isn't this better than that old sweater you came in?” He asked in a playful tone escorting you out of the side room, you wave to Mackenzie and the tailor as you leave.
“Yeah this is a lot better.” You smile as the butler leads you down more hallways until you’ve reached two grand double doors. The butler knocks twice on them and one woman and one man who look a bit younger than the rest of the staff you had seen so far open them up from the inside ushering the two of you in.
The dining room was enormous, you imagine Donald Trump must invite large groups of very important business men or world leaders here often because the room was so fancy. The walls had a lovely dark maroon wallpaper with gold decorative patterns. The table was longer than your whole living room and chairs all looked fancy enough to be thrones. Despite how fancy you feel all dolled up you still feel so out of place in such an extravagant dining hall. You notice the only seat on the dining table that has been set is the one closest to the kitchen so you make your way towards it. The butler who lead you here stills into the kitchen and the man and woman who opened the door for you take his place in leading you. The man pulls out the chair for you and you thank him once he has pushed you in. Afterward the man disappeared into the kitchen for a short amount of time and returned with a tray of several pitchers and a glass.
“This morning we can offer freshly squeezed orange, apple and strawberry-lime juice or an assortment of lemonades to go with your breakfast.” The man states as he gently places the tray next you.
“The strawberry-lime sounds good.” the man pulled out a glass and a reddish pink liquid and poured it in, before taking the tray back to the kitchen and returning with a small like slice to put into the glass just to make it look nicer.
“Oh forgive me madam I forgot to ask, would you care for a coffee?”
“Yes please!” You were relieved that you didn't have to be the one to ask for it. You're quite addicted to caffeine but you don't really want to ask for anything directly since you've already been given so much.
“How do you like your coffee madam?”
“Lots of milk, One spoon of sugar please.”
The man looked over at the lady standing near the other side of the table and she walked into the kitchen.
“While we're waiting allow me to give you the menu for today. For breakfast we have a tropical themed coconut pancakes with a fruit salad made of the freshest ingredients, if you'd prefer something else we could also offer a classic bacon and eggs with some hash browns however if you would rather have a vegan option that may take a little longer.”
Your mouth was watering at all the different options. It's been a while since you've actually eaten breakfast. Most of the time everyone's already left the house by the time you're up and you don't have the willpower to actually cook for yourself. You decide on the pancakes. Coconut sounds really good to you right now.
“Excellent choice madam.” The man compliments and he rushes into the kitchen leaving you to yourself for a little while.
You still can't believe this is all happening. Your family would never believe this would ever happen. Speaking of your family you wonder what will happen when you finally return home. You did leave a note in your room, if anyone bothered to check they would probably assume you were dead. You left your phone at home so they have no way of contacting you. But luckily it's a weekday so probably no one's going to bother looking for you in a while. Even once they get home this evening if you're not there they'd probably assume you're out with friends. You've got at least 2 days before they start wondering where you are.
The waitress returned shortly with your coffee on a small tea plate, there was a Vienna finger placed next to the cup along with an extra packet of sugar.
You thanked her and the waiter came out with a plate containing a large stack of fluffy white pancakes topped with whipped cream and white chocolate chips, he also placed a bowl with a tropical themed fruit salad with pineapple and mango and all sorts of other fruits.
You ravenously consumed all the food that had been placed in front of you. Now that you were feeling a little better you were finally ready to make up for all the meals you had skipped from your mental illness ruining your appetite.
Once you were finished the waiter takes your plates away.
“I'm afraid your going to have to wait a few hours before Me. Trump arrives but we have a lounge room upstairs where you can spend the day, if you'd like you may also explore the garden.”
“That sounds good. How do I get to the lounge room?”
“Allow Mr. Jackson to show you.”
The butler that lead you around this morning returned from the kitchen. He was probably also eating breakfast you assume, and lead you to the door which the wait staff kindly opened for you, he lead you back down the hall and up some stairs to a door label 'Lounge’ which he opened for you.
“I'll leave you be, ring the bell next to the door if you'd like anything or want to see the garden.”
“Thank you.”
You finally found yourself some alone time since this morning. Not that you didn't appreciate all the attention but it was a bit new for you. The lounge was a more friendly looking room. So far everything in the mansion was so formal and fancy but this room felt more human. There's a huge TV on the wall and in front is a large couch in an L shape. On a table next to the couch is an unopened bag of lays chips and a bowl. There's a few video game consoles hooked up to the TV that you don't want to mess with as you assume they belong the the president's son. There's a dart board on the wall with a few darts still sticking out of it. You pick up the remote and turn on the TV. You switch to CNN and it's some report about the meeting Trump is at. The reporter is giving hefty criticism on the way the president is holding himself and just on his policies in general. You don't care all that much about politics but everyone always makes their attack on Trump so personal. You think they should treat the president with a little more respect.
You switch the channel and there's some trashy romance film playing that you decide to watch. You open the bag of chips and eat some straight from the bag. You wonder if you could ask someone to use the phone or something to maybe tell your parents to ignore the letter on your desk but you don't have your parents number memorised since you never really call them too often anyway so having a phone would be useless.
You watch TV for another hour or so before Mr. Jackson returns telling you you are needed in the foyer.
You walk with him and once you arrive there are already several servants there ready to greet the president.
The door opens and Donald has a bit of an annoyed look on his face. The meeting must have not gone as planned. However his face lit up the second he saw you among his staff.
“[Y/n] is that you!? You look so much better now that you're all cleaned up!”
“Thank you Mr.Trump!”
“Listen darling I'm gonna go change and make a couple phone calls but I'll right with you okay?”
“Okay.” You agree quietly.
You are lead back up to the lounge and you wait another hour for the president to finish with his business before he has time for you. You have to admit it didn't make you feel very good but you know it can't be helped. He is doing official important business for the whole country after all.
Once he was finally done he knocked on the door and let himself in.
“Hey [y/n] how are you? Has everyone been treating you well?”
“Yes Mr.Trump, everything has been perfect. I can't thank you enough.”
“Just seeing you smile is enough sweetheart.”
You give Donald your best smile but it was still a bit sad.
“Hey, why don't we go eat lunch someplace huh? I'm starving.” The president patted his stomach.
You genuinely smile.
“Yeah okay.”
The two of you get up and Trump leads you to the limousine outside. Soon you're back in the city and he has his secretary call up and make reservations. You've heard rumors that Donald Trump prefers to eat at McDonald's but if he has to make reservations that obviously not where he's taking you.
Eventually the limo parks in front of a fancy looking place in the center of the city. The driver opens the door for you and Mr.Trump and opens the door to the restaurant and leaves you there.
You both walk in and the staff are all wearing fancy suits and ties.
They lead you to a small room with a table for two and nothing else. The president said 'thanks Horace’ to the waiter and sat down.
“Honestly [y/n], this place has the best steak you'll ever eat in your life outside of the Trump towers. I highly recommend the steak.”
“Oh, that sounds good. I've never eaten steak before.”
Donald gave you a sympathetic look. “You poor thing.”
He ordered for both of you and while you were waiting you guys talked a bit.
“So you live with your parent huh?”
“Yeah.” You look away kind of ashamed.
“Do they know about what happened yesterday?”
“Well no… I left a note but they probably won't see it until tomorrow.”
“Don't you want to call them and let them know you're okay?”
“Well I don't really know their number…”
“You didn't bring your phone?”
“Well I didn't really think I would need it. River would've ruined it anyway it could at least been given to someone else if left at home.”
Trump just responded with a 'hmm’.
Soon the food was brought out and Donald thanked the waiter again.
“Tell you what darling, hows about I take you home this afternoon so you can tell your parents about what happened okay?”
There was a pit in your stomach. You knew you couldn't stay for very long but you wish you could enjoy the extravagant life a little longer.
“Okay…”
You bit into you steak though and all those thoughts disappeared. This really was the best steak you've ever had in your life. Nay this was probably the best food you've ever tasted in your life.
The president smiled at your reaction to the steak.
“What did I say? Pretty good huh?”
You were at a loss for words so you just nodded your head while you ate.
Lunch came and went sooner than expected after the steak the two of you had a slice of chocolate cake each and you were on your way.
The limousine stopped in front of your house and the driver opened the door for you. You take one last look behind you and ring the doorbell, it was pretty late in the day at this point so your mother would be home…
To be continued