In Memory of Hoodie 🕊️
I never knew his name. I only know the hoodie he wore, the pain in his posture, and the silence that met him at the end. Hoodie wasn’t loud. He didn’t cry out. But everything about him—his pacing, his posture, the way he lingered on the edge—was a scream for help.
He was watched. For over two minutes, another person stood just a few feet away, arms crossed, doing nothing. Not even a word. Not a hand on his shoulder. Not a single act of kindness.
And then, Hoodie was gone.
I still think about him often. I think about what his life was like, what struggles and hardships he went through, what prompted him to take matters into his own hands like this. I think about his family and friends, if he had any. If they missed him, if they mourned him. If they knew how deeply he was hurting. I think about how even strangers like me can grieve someone we’ve never met. I think about how many people feel this alone, this invisible. And I think about how all it might have taken was one small moment of human decency to change everything.
Though it’s a bit too late, I want to tell you that you didn’t deserve to suffer alone. That I’m deeply sorry, that I wish someone could’ve taken your pain away, been by your side. I’m sorry that you were repeatedly let down, even in your last moments. You will be deeply missed and never forgotten.
To Hoodie: I’m sorry the world failed you. I saw you. I still do.
You mattered, and I hope you’re at peace, wherever you are. Rest easy <3
