When i was 7 years old my mom gave birth to my little sister. Me and my dad went to visit her in the hospital to check out the new family member. As 7 year olds often do, i got bored, so my parents sent me to the kiosk right outside the main building to get an ice cream. As i was walking towards the kiosk i cut over the lawn as it was a shorter walk, suddenly i feel and hear a really heavy thud right behind me.
I turn around too see the warped mangled body of a man in a hospital gown maybe 40-50 cm from where i was standing. The man had jumped off the hospital roof after receiving news he had terminal cancer. My mom and alot of the others in the birth ward even saw the guy flying past the windows. The guy basically just fell short of killing me with him. A group of doctors and psychiatrists asked me to get emergency therapy but i insisted on getting my ice cream and go home.
This day i can still recall the thud of the body hitting the ground and his body lying the next to me, clear as crystal. I still tell this story sometimes, mostly when im drunk or high. I dont know why it comes up, but i think shit stuck with me.
EDIT: Hey guys! Seems like this was a popular story so im going to answer some of your questions! I believe it was a pistachio cone ice cream wich is the freakin best. My parents were very considerate and really wanted me to talk to them or someone about it, but i feel like at the time the concept was too extreme for me to grasp and it felt scary and unnessesary for me to talk about, i mean, the guy was dead and im still alive so i guess ice cream therapy was the way to go. I have talked to them about it in later years! To the guy doubting the story, my mother was still in the hospital and got told it was a suicide not an accident, and it was related to the poor guys bad news. As i explained i cut over a lawn so it did not happen directly by the entrance. Believe me, i wish this was not a true story at all! I do not think im traumatized in a way that effects my life, but when you drink and do drugs stuff comes up and sometimes it feels good just talking about it in a sort of "fuck yes i am alive!" fashion. Im sorry if my wording and spelling is not top grade, as english is not my first language! Life rules! And i love my family :)