disappearhere

Alex was my favourite student. It was his passion for learning and his ability to absorb anything and everything that I taught him that made me not only respect him as a student but also as a person. It sounds cliche' but he reminded me of myself at that age. Not only was he bright and energetic, he was also a genuinely nice guy.

My training with him lasted about two months. During that time frame we did several tandom jumps and hours of classroom work. He took in more information than anyone I had ever trained. He studied wind and weather patterns, cloud formations, velocity calculations, everything he could learn. I thought he would take over my job someday.

When the day came for his first solo jump I was so proud of him. It was like he was my own son, accomplishing something that meant the world to him. I'll never forget that afternoon. The perfect day for skydiving. No wind, nice and warm.

The plane had just been tuned and everyone was in good spirits. Just before his take off I ran up to him to give my good luck and congratulation speech. I noticed he was acting different than his usual upbeat self. I figured he was just a little nervous about his first solo, perfectly normal. I gave him a solid slap on the back as he boarded the plane and said I'd see him on the landing. I always stay on the ground to watch my students first solo jumps. That way I can critique there chute deploy time and there landing, give them tips for next time.

He exited the plane like a true pro. Dove out and shot staight down, quickly leveling out to a great looking freefall. Something still wasn't right though. He was losing altitude very fast and he showed no sign of pulling the cord. I started yelling "PULL IT! PULL IT!" I knew he couldn't hear me it was more for myself if anything. He got to about a thousand feet and I knew it would be too late for him to get his chute fully opened. He was right above me on the landing mark. I started to yell for the medics to get ready. Then it happened. A huge explosion in the air where Alex's body had been. A giant flash of orange and red and a deafining bang. Then a large red cloud came falling down. I was showered with a mist of Alex's blood. In my shock and horror, I could see a leg falling from the air and part of a hand. It was as if time had stopped for a moment. The medics didn't know what to do, I didn't know what to do. No one knew what the hell had happened.

In the following weeks of the investigation the police had searched his apartment and found the traces of the explosive that he had used. They also found a note. As it turns out he had been diagnosed with a very rare and very fatal form of cancer. By the time the doctors found out it was too late to do anything. They told him he should make all his arrangments, contact whatever family he had and so forth. You can imagine the blow this must have been for a young man of twenty three who thought he had his whole life ahead of him.

Well, he tricked me. He used me as a way out. I trained him to skydive not only as a student but as a friend. He used that knowledge to end his life. I can't blame him, but the way he did it. He had strapped several explosive charges on his body. He never had any intention of pulling the cord. Instead, he had a remote detonator in his hand. When he hit the button...it was as if he just vaporized.

The whole ordeal was over fairly quick. The police hasseled me for about a week, trying to find out if I knew what his plan was, if I had helped him in some way. Then it was all over. Everyone at the diving school acted as if nothing even happened.
I quit my job as an instructor shortly after that but I still skydive. I think of Alex alot when I;m on the plane. How can I forget? I will always remember that afternoon, for as long as I live.

And it's funny in a way. I can't...for the life of me...remember what his face looked like.