Who am I? Today I am Joseph. I am a forty something white male, over six feet, about 185 or so, with black hair turning salt and pepper. I admit that I have gained a couple of inches around the waist since I was RIF'ed. At the time this incident took place, I was a teaching assistant while working on my doctorate.
I spent several hours that night at the library grading papers from the undergrad class I was teaching. Most of them were as bad as I have come to expect from products of a modern education. One of them in particular however, worried me. Anna was a student from northern Europe someplace. Usually, she turned in excellent work, but this particular paper was god-awful. Now, you have to understand, that in the Army I was in Special Forces, and I was an S-5 in Korea, and a host for a Thai officer at the advanced course at Benning. So I tended to keep an eye out for the international students. Sort of a habit. This paper was so out of charactar for Anna, that I became concerned. Maybe it was not a smart thing to do, but I decided to see if I could find out what was the matter.
I found her address in the campus registry, and walked up to her residence hall. When I found her room, I rapped on the door. For a moment, I heard nothing, and wondered if she was there. Then a tremulous voice asked who I was. I told her, and again there was silence. Then she said I might as well come in. I tried the door, it was not locked, and let myself in.
She stood on the ledge of the open window, with one foot outside. I was stunned to see a long rope running from her neck to a section of the drop ceiling where a panel had been removed. She looked at me with eyes that had obviously been crying, and said that I could be a witness. It would save her the trouble of writing a note. I could see that if she went out the window with that long rope she would fall to a broken neck, and almost instant death. I did not want that. But for the life of me, I was too stunned to think of anything to say for a moment. Then I blurted out something about it being a horrible way to die. She hesitated. Now that I had started, I warmed to my theme, and told her that people talked of swinging for twenty minutes to slowly choke to death, gagging and soiling their pants and so on. All bullshit, of course, but it was all I could think of. Whatever, it had the effect of scaring her, and she seemed less eager to leap out.
She told me that I could not stop her. I said I would not try. True statement, as far as it went. It is dangerous to interfere with a suicide, the subject could take the rescuer along for the ride, and we were on the third floor. Instead I suggested that maybe she ought to try it first, before jumping out the window. She stared at me, puzzled, and confused. I suggested that she retie the rope so that she could do it in the room, and then if she changed her mind I could help her. I hoped to trick her into taking the rope off, and leaving the window.
I half succeeded, she turned away from the window. Unfortunately, she turned to the missing cieling panel, and simply retied slack in the rope to shorten it. Then she gave me a funny look, and stepped off the ledge.
She hanged.
I quickly grabbed for the phone on the desk. A digital clock by the phone read: 9:27:17. But when I snatched up the phone, it had no dial tone. Beside me, Anna squirmed on the rope. Her hands at her sides waved around, as if she were unsure what to do with them. Her legs moved gently back and forth with the inertia of her leap from the ledge. Her eyes bulged slightly, as she watched me.
9:27:23: She had unplugged the phone to hook up her computer. I wrenched the CPU case around, and the key board crashed to the floor. There, the jack. Squeeze it out. Snatch up the phone; jam the jack in. Anna's face was turning red, and I could see her chest heave, her breasts waving, as she tried to pull in air. Her legs were jerking out and about, and I guessed that she was unconsciously trying to find support for them.
9:28:04: The operator on 911 did not want to take the information as fast as I wanted to give it to her. Not her fault, I know, she has to go by a set procedure. But, I did not want to waste a single second. Contrary to what I told Anna, death by hanging does not normally take a long time. Medically, a person could remain alive in a noose for quite a while, if they had very strong neck muscles or something, but in most cases, brain damage can begin in as little as two minutes, unconsciousness in four or five, and death usually soon after.
9:28:31: Finally, the operator said she was sending help, and I should say on the line. I turned to Anna, and reached for the Swiss army knife in my pocket. Then I hesitated. Anna dangled under the crude hanging knot. Her long blond hair shimmering in the light. Her face red, and becoming a little puffy. Tears filled her eyes, and began to run in tiny streams down her cheek. She was clutching futilely at the rope digging into the soft flesh tight under her jaw, but she could not get a decent purchase. Her body was shuddering, causing her breasts to shake madly under her blouse. I could clearly see the shape of her nipples jutting out. Her legs shook violently, with choppy motions in random directions, as she tried to kick up to grab the rope. Her shoes waved a foot or so above the floor.
I burned the image in my memory. Then I stepped up and grabbed her around the waist with one arm, and raised the knife to the rope with the other. She clutched frantically at me, as I sawed through the cord with a couple jerks. Then she collapsed against me, and I fell back on the bed with her in my arms.
9:28:30: The cops told me that I had handled it all wrong. I should never have let her hang herself in the first place, and I was damn lucky she was not seriously hurt. I didn't argue. I did the only thing I could think of at the time; I only hope I do better if the situation ever arises again. Like it ever will.
Anna? Well, I heard from her again. You see, although I had not told the cops how I hesitated while I watched her hang, she knew. And when she fell on me on the bed, she noticed the raging erection that filled my pants. Her problem all along had been simple stupid loneliness, far from home, and a lack of companionship. Hell, she was horny. But now she had decided that I had saved her life, and it was sort of mine to do with as I wished. She guessed that I enjoyed seeing a beautiful woman hang, and offered to hang for me again, whenever I wished. But that was a problem. See, as a T.A., I fell under the campus rules on student-faculty fraternization. She wanted to fulfill my deep secret fantasy, and she was a sexy young woman too, but I could get in serious trouble if I accepted.
So what could I do?
Take me to the Information Booth