The Cliff Edge

My hair flew wildly about my face, whipping me or catching in my eyes. I didn’t care, there was no reason to, it’d be gone soon. My eyes were cold, as I looked out over the cliff edge, waves crashing and rolling around together, as if some morbid dance or mating ritual.

My hands remained tightly grasped around the metal of the pointed fence behind me. The spikes there now stained in a little of my blood. I didn’t care though, it’d be gone soon.

They’d put the spikes there to stop people. To stop people like me. They knew that people liked to end it here, the last thing they ever knew being the true beauty of nature, the wind in your hair as you flew, flew. There was no messy ending, just a body being straight jacketed by the cool, silky waves as they took you under, under. You couldn’t fly anymore, but you didn’t have to. Did the council really think that someone who wants to end it would care about accidentally cutting themselves on those spikes?

I couldn’t think of a more beautiful way for it to be over, honestly. There are other ways to do it. But they’re messier, more for your family to clean up. I wouldn’t want that for them.

I leant forward a little, my arms still bent out behind me at weird angles as my hands clutched tightly at the cold bars, chills piercing my hands and running riot through my veins. I wanted to savour this.

A slight salty spray hit my face with that normal ocean smell. Yes. I could cope with that being the last thing I ever smell; the feeling of it between every single cell of my body and almost comforting feeling. I’ve never felt comforted before. Why do you think I’m standing here?

“Well, isn’t this a sight,” a smooth, low voice sliced through the almost silence - the waves now sounding much further away. I turned my head a little to see just a shadow. No recognizable face. “I was here once. It feels good, doesn’t it? To have that much control,”
I just blinked at the stranger before turned my head.

“It feels good to be gripping onto life and death,” I said, nodding my head at the fingers wrapped around the black painted bar.

“Yeah, not knowing which way it could go,”

“I know which way it’s going,”

“Do you? I’m sure you’d have done it by now,”

“I want to savour it,”

“You should want it to be over,”

My head twitched again, my eyes meeting the empty, hollow, faceless intruder. “And what would you know?” I snapped, insulted that he wouldn’t just let me be. Let me enjoy these last few moments. I can make them last as long as I want. I looked out at the horizon again, the sun just disappearing below that obscenely straight line.

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“To do the same thing I am? There’s no queue buddy, come up here and take a spot next to me,”

“Gladly,” his voice filtered out from next to me. My head snapped into his direction, I hadn't even seen him climb over the railing. He let out a throaty laugh at the look on my face. “I told you,” he smiled. “I was here once,” and with that, he was teetering over the edge before letting go and falling, falling.

I watched his small body fall and fall until it hit the ocean, my eyes wide and my mouth agape to the point where I could taste the salt. My stomach churned as my eyes stayed fixed on the ocean that had just swallowed that boy...he didn’t look much older than seventeen, and it was over, just like that?

My eyes glazed over as I felt the bile rise in my throat, my airwaves tightening. His little performance had done the one thing I refused to ever let happen. I was beginning to talk myself out of it, think about what I was doing. Fear seeped through my pours and flooded onto the floor, a waterfall down to the broken sea where his body was floating down, down, into the murky depths where no-one had dared look yet.

How will his family feel? That got me thinking of mine; my parents, their large smiles, their happy ways and their obnoxious laughter. Could I really ruin that happiness?

I swallowed, and did the one thing I didn’t want to do. I turned my back on nature’s most beautiful weapon, and hoisted myself up onto the fence.

“Well, isn’t this a sight,” a smooth, low voice sliced through the almost silence. My heart stopped and I froze, half way over the fence in possibly the most undignified position possible. “I was here once. It feels good, doesn’t it? To have so much control,”

I just blinked again, before continuing to push myself over the bars, landing with a soft thud on the grass. “It feels good to be holding onto life and death,” I said, wrapping my hand once more around the, now warm, black painted bar of the fence.

“Yeah, not knowing which way it could go,” he smirked, knowingly.

“I know which way it’s going,” I said, smiling triumphantly. The feeling of accomplishment settled in my stomach, and I felt proud of myself. Proud that I was brave enough to let go on the right side of the fence. I don’t quite know what had just happened, but I do know, that I will live another day.

Maybe I’ll just have to wait for death to come to me when it's ready.