The Cliff

Despite the inability to breathe properly, I laid myself down onto my stomach, forcing the gravel and grass to temporarily mar my skin with unattractive indentations. Resting my chin upon my folded hands, I peered cautiously over the fragile edge of the cliff to see the viciously hungry waves lapping their overly-eager tongues at the feet of the cliff. The relaxing aroma of sea and salt wafted through the gentle zephyr, consuming my senses with memories which were once remembered so sweetly and fondly. As I gazed down below, the lust to join the ocean—to finally submit to their flirtatious waves and let the water drown out the memories until they weren't memories anymore—grew ever so significantly.

The snapping of a twig, the inhuman swish of grass pulled me from my daunting thoughts, setting me back onto the solid ground of the Earth. Words had not yet been exchanged, though I could already paste a face, a voice, a familiar grip of a hand to those footsteps nevertheless. Relief and anger mixed with the spray of sea drifting around us.

A breath was exhaled. "This is the third instance this week," the intruder uttered under her breath. Quiet but still audible. Not facing her, but I could just picture the creases of frustration blemishing her otherwise flawless features. "You know my worry over you is a constant," she spit the words, almost accusing me even.

If my previous intentions weren't to jump before I was interrupted, I would have rolled my eyes at her. There was a burst of warmth in my chest, however, that halted any actions that were otherwise aloof towards the girl.

In the short time she and I had known of each other's existence—two months at the most—my respect for the girl had grown tremendously as I began to accept the fact she would want to be near me, a demon, at her own free will. It wasn't until recently, when she followed me after school one day, that she found my safe haven. My escape was no longer owned by a single individual, but rather shared. At the minute of the crime, I had felt as if everything had been stripped of me Nothing I called mine never truly was.

It was selfish of me, I realised, to call this cliff, the gravel, the grass and the atmosphere around it my own. It wasn't until I met her that I registered that. At the beginning, I found her to be intrusive and annoying like a possum or a raccoon scavenging through my trash It was more than that, really. She haunted me. Her words loomed over me every night, every dawn. It was as if she knew I was laden with demons and cloaked in darkness so she could let her light pierce me and let it fill me. She was blinding, but I didn't mind the burn if it meant my life could have the chance to be illuminated.

The first time she found me here, I was leaning too far forward over the edge for her liking. I can't remember what I was thinking at the time, although I knew I had scared her horrifically, and by the time she had thrown me backwards onto the rocky ground, I realised I scared myself, too.

The second instance, the gravel dug into my knees as I observed the ocean like it was my religion and this cliff was my shrine. The girl of light knelt beside me this time in the hopes of gaining some insight about the allure of this place. The sky was stuffed with the fluff of clouds, but following her departure, it was sunny.

This, the third instance, I stood myself up from my rather comfortable bed of rock. Still, I did not shift to see her face, to see the light. I could feel it emanating from behind me. I knew she wouldn't leave me this time. At least I didn't want her to.

Light cannot help but destroy darkness, particularly in this case, and being the demonic male I was, I craved destruction even if it meant of myself. Having this girl of sunshine around me was doing a lot of good for me, whether I cared to admit it or not. I was so intrigued and absolutely confounded with this girl, I had forgotten what it was like to be constantly enveloped in darkness. I had let her words seep and sink into my brain, subconsciously ingraining them into my hippocampus. Her presence was memorized. Every time I gazed down from the cliff, the thought of her register and made me want to take a step back.

For her and my own good, I definitely did not want this girl to abandon me. Fortunately for me, she felt obligated to actually to be concerned about me, which was something very foreign to me but I wasn't going to deny her the pleasure of doing so—or in this case, burden.

I will divulge the fact I was using her for my own benefit, to a certain extent, but her presence, her light was offered. Like she said: I was a constant worry to her, so I told her, "I live on the line between danger and death. If you worry so much, walk with me."