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Writer's pictureChloe Smith

Good Samaritan

Trigger warning: This short story discusses suicide. Some readers may find this distressing.


Author’s Note: This story deals with suicide and depicts someone talking another person out of suicide. Despite the hope and happy ending of the story, it's important to note that there are themes within the story that might be triggering. If you resonate with these themes, I hope you can hold on to the idea of goodness always existing, even in the darkest of times.


Photo by Ilias Nikolarakis on Pexels.


It was a cold day, like always. Hallie wasn't sure why she expected anything less - as if the heavens would part so that the dazzling sun could shine down on her, one last time. She was never particularly lucky, and nothing good ever seemed to happen to her.


It always used to be a running joke when she was young that she was cursed - ‘Poor Little Hallie!’ She would hear, every time she tripped, or came last in something. Sometimes people would even laugh as if the misery was funny. But it was never funny to her.


Then she moved away to university, hoping for a fresh start. And well, she found one - because this time, people stopped laughing at her, instead, she just started to be ignored. For a while, Hallie almost saw it as a blessing - no one caring when things went wrong in her life - but then the misery set in, a dark cloud out of nowhere accompanying her everywhere, and she couldn't bring herself to get out of bed for a month. And no one cared at all - not to check on her, or even to find out what went wrong this time. She didn't even get a card, or a call, from anyone on her birthday. It was like she had ceased to exist. Which only fed the misery even more.


Soon that month turned into multiple, and the only place she saw was her own bed. The only person she had to talk to was herself - and the awful misery that stayed raining on her throughout. She felt awful. Useless. And began to think that the world would be a far better place without a waste of a person like her in it.


Hallie sighed as she sat heavily on a worn wooden bench that faced the beach, beyond a short wall. She could jump it, she thought - once she'd gathered enough energy. Yes. She just needed to sit here for a minute, and then she'd do it.


The plan entered her head on a dark day that felt all too familiar - all that she knew since the misery appeared in her life - and she picked the day there and then. It was random, and nothing special - just like her. But Hallie loved the sea, and the idea of being in the water was enough to get her out of bed and to write the letters that no one would read, and leave them in the room no one would likely even check - because who would really care that she was missing? After all, who really cares that she's alive?


‘Sorry love, d'you mind if I sit here?’ A soft voice asked, making Hallie jump. A woman, with grey hairs peppered amongst her blonde, smiled down at her from behind round, dark glasses. Hallie, finding her throat too dry to reply, just nodded.

‘Thanks, I need to rest my poor feet,’ The woman said, as she sat down gently. She placed a small shopping bag in front of her, before pulling out two chocolate bars.


‘Would you like one?’ She asked, holding one out to Hallie.


Hallie felt her stomach grumble, compounding the emptiness that consumed her. Before even thinking, she reached out and ate it gratefully. She was much hungrier than she'd thought she was. ‘Thank you,’ she said, quietly.


The woman watched her, with a small smile. ‘So, have you been out shopping today then?’


Hallie shook her head.


‘Smart girl,’ the old woman said, with a chuckle. ‘It's dead busy in the shops. Must be all the tourists.’ She then paused for a moment, before she added ‘you aren't a tourist, are you, love?’


Hallie shook her head again, and the old woman smiled.


‘You here for university then?’


Hallie nodded.


The old woman made a noise in the back of her throat before nodding back. ‘You are a smart girl, then. Are you enjoying it?’


Hallie hesitated for a moment and tried to stop her eyes filling with tears at the thought of all of the coursework that waited, unfinished, on her laptop.


The old woman gently placed a woollen gloved hand on Hallie's, and said, softly. ‘It's alright. I bet it's dead stressful, eh?’


Hallie nodded, and quickly wiped her eyes, just in case any tears fell.


‘I can tell,’ said the old woman, ‘because you're out on such a cold day without a coat.


Look at you - so busy that you forgot your coat!’


Hallie stopped for a moment and realised just how cold she was - so much so that she only just noticed that she was even shivering. The old woman pulled a brand-new throw blanket from her shopping bag, took off the tags, and wrapped it around Hallie, who found herself pulling it closer as if by impulse.


‘There you are. You keep that,’ said the woman, kindly.


‘Thank you,’ Hallie managed to say, her throat rough from not talking.


‘Not a problem,’ said the woman. ‘What's your name, love?’


Hallie looked the woman in her eyes for the first time. They were as blue as the sea and lined with years of laughter. They were kind, and Hallie found talking easier, somehow, now that the woman's kindness was affirmed by her face.


‘Hallie,’ she said.


The woman smiled as if she'd just heard the most beautiful name in her entire life.


‘Hello, Hallie. Nice to meet you. What a lovely name you have.’


Hallie found laughter escaping her mouth. ‘Thanks - only I mostly associate it with people sighing or laughing at me.’


The woman’s face shifted into a frown. ‘Now, that's no good. Why's that?’


Hallie found the words spilling out of her mouth like water. ‘I'm so clumsy, and unlucky. Terrible things keep happening to me. And I just mess everything up.’


The old woman tutted and shook her head defiantly. ‘No, love. That's not true - I've only known you for two minutes, and you haven't messed up one bit, and nothing terrible has happened to you, has it?’


Hallie shook her head. ‘I guess not.’


The woman looked away, towards the rolling waves that were only a road across from them both, beyond a wall. Only a short walk, all things considered.


‘Y’know,’ said the woman, quietly, but with a strength to her voice. ‘I've been where you are, Hallie. Not metaphorically. Literally. I've sat on a bench just like that, full of despair, just… waiting. Waiting to cross the road. To go into the sea.’


Hallie looked at her, stunned, as the woman wiped a tear from her cheek before she cleared her throat and continued.


‘I know it's not quite the same - we're different people, from different times, with different worries and stresses. But as soon as I saw you there, I saw my young self, and I knew what I had to do.’ The woman looked Hallie in the eye and reached out to squeeze her hand. Hallie swore that she could feel her hand’s warmth beyond the cover of her glove. ‘A woman sat next to me - years ago now - and just talked to me. Told me how she went through something similar and how a complete stranger, just some good Samaritan going about their way, took the time to talk to her and to talk her down. That woman made me promise not to do what I'd planned - that I'd have a good life, with so many moments of happiness - if I just got some help. And despite everything, a part of me, maybe a part that hadn't been touched by the sadness inside me, believed her. So, I went home, told my mother, and we went to a doctor. Decades later, most of which were full of happiness, here I am. All because of a stranger that cared enough to save me. And now I’m here to save you, Hallie. Alright?’


Hallie just kept looking into the woman's bright eyes, almost as if she was a boat, lost at shore, and they were a lighthouse.


‘I know that I have no idea what you're going through, not really,’ said the woman, squeezing Hallie’s hand again. ‘But I'm living proof that it doesn't have to end here or be like this forever. You can get help. Things can get better. And I promise you that if you're able to get off this bench, and start that journey, that you'll never regret it. Not once.’


Hallie found the words leaving her dry throat before she'd even registered them. ‘But… how?’


‘Well, maybe start with going back home - get yourself warm, maybe get some food in you. And then - I think I'd start with a doctor. Even if you can only book an appointment weeks away, it's something to aim for. Something in the future that’s a reason for you to keep going - even if you tell yourself that it's just because you can get yourself some cake after. Just something, y’know? Uni and all that - that can come later, but I’m sure just an email explaining that you’re struggling will be enough for them to start helping you.’


Hallie nodded. That made sense.


‘Good,’ the woman said, with a happy smile. ‘I bet you're freezing, aren't you? Why don't you head home now and make that call - but not before you get warm, alright?’

Hallie nodded again, and even though a stiffness shot through her as she got up, she found putting one foot in front of the other, turning away from the bench and slowly walking back to her uni flat, easier by the second.


Hallie looked back, just for a moment, at the woman, who gave her an encouraging smile and waved. Hallie waved back, unsure if it was a hello, or a goodbye. But either way, Hallie knew what she had to do next - and just the thought of it almost made her feel a semblance of hope, like a spark igniting in the dark.

 

She felt warmer still as she pulled on a hoodie and looked around for her phone. She ordered herself a pizza - her favourite food - and then dialled the number of her local doctor's surgery as she waited for the food to arrive.


It was as soon as Hallie put down the phone to her GP after booking an appointment to discuss her mental health, that she realised that she never even found out that woman's name. She should have asked, she thought, until she realised that you don’t have to reveal some things if you don’t want to, as long as you’re talking. It’s the opening up that matters, not necessarily reading the whole book at once. She might not know the woman's name, but she would always be grateful to her for opening up and talking to her like she did, and she would think of her when times get hard again, to help her through. As if she was a ship lost in fog, and the memory of the kind stranger was her light. Her reminder that there was always goodness, and kindness, even in the time that seemed bleakest.


Yes, she was so grateful.

  

Years later, when another lost and hurting soul would sit on that very bench, they would be joined by a kind woman, who would offer them a bar of chocolate. She would tell them how once, she sat where they did, and felt the same misery. She would explain how another person - kind, sincere, and gentle - listened to her, and made her realise that she didn't need to do what she had planned that day. Made her feel like she mattered.


She would sit with that lost soul and talk with them, or even just acknowledge them and keep them company, until they decided against their initial plan, and went home. Soon the bench would be full of messages of thanks to this mysterious woman, for saving them so selflessly.


While Hallie never revealed her real name, just like the woman before her, she soon earned one - the Good Samaritan, or Sam for short. And while it wasn't a medal, or some great award - just the fact that she could do so much good and fill her life with so much happiness after that horrible period of misery…was more than enough. It was everything.

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