The waterfall was one of Jajce’s proudest attractions and the center of our town. Surrounding it was a park whose many benches were a popular destination for teenage lovers. At the top where the Pliva river finished its course and spectacularly merged into the Vrbas river was a small observation point with a gazebo. I loved to stand there and watch the water cascading down as stray drops hit my face. From this spot, I spied on couples kissing on park benches and obligingly took pictures of Belgian and German tourists posing at the precipice. There was a metal fence at the observation point for safety reasons, but it was easy to climb over it. Some people leaned so far against the fence that I worried they’d accidentally trip and fall into the abyss. Everyone knew this meant certain death. It wasn’t only because of the 30 meter height. The bottom where the two rivers converged was shallow and full of sharp rocks. Grandmas who wanted to scare children told the cautionary tale of a high school student who dived into the waterfall to honor a lost bet. He was tricked into jumping and was fool enough to believe he could emerge alive. They never even found his body.

…I wondered how my idyllic adolescence had so quickly become overwhelmed with worry about some wild boy and rumblings of war.

Two days after Bojan’s last wrist slitting incident, I was waiting for my parents to go on our usual walk through town. Still wearing their pajamas, my parents’ eyes were glued to the television. They didn’t want to go out. There was a demonstration going on in Sarajevo and more talk of war. “Is the war coming to Jajce too?” I asked. “Will we have to leave?”

They ignored me. I was furious. Why were they treating me like I was stupid? I could see what was going on.I left them staring at the news and ran down the Volijak hill towards the town center. The park was eerily quiet. I realized that I hadn’t seen any people on my way there. On weekends, Jajce’s streets were usually packed with crowds strolling around. Was everyone already too scared to go out? I continued towards the waterfall. I noticed a group of boys gathered at the gazebo. When I came closer and realized it was Bojan with a couple of his friends, I quickly turned around. Hoping he hadn’t seen me, I tried to duck behind a poplar tree. But it was too late.

“Nina,” he yelled out. “Is that you? Come here.”

“No.”

“Don’t act so shy. You don’t want me to jump into the waterfall because of rejection, do you?”

He dangled a foot above the abyss and laughed.

“Don’t,” I said with a mix of annoyance and fear. This was probably another empty threat. Why was he continuing to torture me? Still, I walked towards him, in case he tried to do something stupid. The smile on his face from just a moment ago vanished.

“Will you be my girlfriend or will you not? Tell me right here and now.”

“I won’t.”

“Then you’re responsible for my death.”

I started to walk away. I would not let him intimidate me. I suspected he didn’t have the guts to jump. I’d had enough of this cruel game. But just as I was about to turn into the lane leading towards the park exit, I heard a scream. I turned around again. Bojan was sprawled on the ground by the edge of the waterfall. The other boys tried to hold him back, but he crawled forward. He wiggled out of the jacket they’d grabbed, got up and climbed across the fence. I rushed back to him. He was already on the other side of the fence. His feet could barely fit on the tiny speck of ground. If he made one move forward, he’d fall. He looked at me in triumph, his eyes glossy and crazed.