Chelsea Bridge




I was walking past Chelsea Bridge in the early hours of the morning when I saw someone climbing on to the balustrade over the Themes. It looked like a young woman and there was little doubt as to what she was intending to do. The sun was shining and you could smell the water below us. It was a beautiful day to die on. She was a gorgeous young woman and she reminded me of someone I've seen on a photo the other day. I did not intend to disturb her in what she felt she had to do. I did consider it to be a tragedy that such a young woman felt that this was the only solution to her problems though.

She stood there like an angel in the morning sun, her white dress streamed by the morning breeze. A weak scent of perfume and alcohol struck me when the breeze turned in my direction. The perfume she was wearing smelled so good. Obviously she had been drinking, maybe to get the courage needed to perform such an act. She was crying, and her make-up was running down her face mixed with her tears. Her red lipstick was smeared over her right cheek as if she had tried to remove the taste of her own tears. But she was still extraordinarily beautiful in a very special way where she stood on the edge of her own destruction.

I was fascinated by the determination in her eyes as she glanced at me from the corner of her eye. She had made up her mind some time ago, it seemed like she just never had had the courage it takes to end your own life. To set yourself free from the cage of flesh that surrounds us all. Suddenly, she started mumbling something. It almost sounded like a chant, but I couldn't make out the words. She glanced at me again, and then she looked up at the sky. Inhaled one deep, final breath and took a step forward.

My eyes followed her as she fell down towards the water. I think I saw a happy smile on her face, but I'm not one hundred percent sure of that. I couldn't help wondering what was going on in the head of this angel-like being who fell towards her death. Did she regret her decision or was this the right thing to do? What was it that had driven this young girl to do such a devastating act? So many questions that never will be answered. Interesting that she had dressed up in that pretty white dress and put on make-up though. It was like she had decided to become a beautiful body, an erotic funeral for which she was dressed.

I still remember the look she had on her face as she jumped off the balustrade. That image has burnt itself into my mind. And I will never forget that young woman on the Chelsea Bridge. I don't think I've ever seen my daughter look so astoundingly beautiful as she did that early morning.