at the edge of the cliff || ✔

chapter forty: the call

at the edge of the cliff

chapter forty: the call

The next couple days were normal. Which is weird. For me at least. I go to school, do my work, talk to Ryder, Jemma, and Grayson, and then come home. There is no thoughts lingering in the back of my mind about my father or Amilio or Justin. I haven't been stressing about my mother as much because I distract myself with my school work. But there is something that is a little strange about these past few days. I haven't been to the cliff. I have gone there almost everyday for so long and it feels weird not to be there so much. Or at all. I always went there when I didn't have anywhere else to go or when I needed to get away. I'd jump to make myself feel better, to give me a rush, to clear my head. But there isn't anything to clear. Which has never happened. Ever. Obviously I think about stuff, but I haven't been over thinking. I used to think and think and make senarios up in my mind and get upset over things that haven't even happened or could happen and I would give myself a headache. My mind would completely shut down and I'd would just. . .be there for a while. I just existed. I would be numb. My brain defiantly would lose a few brain cells.

I remember the all nighters sitting on the edge of the cliff, feet dangling over, thought racing in and out of my mind, and just blankly staring at the water below.

Or even when I was younger before I discovered my secret hideaway, I would do the same thing but at my window. I'll set the scene. Ten or eleven year old Isabelle Shay Daniels, fresh bruises covering her face after a beating from her oh so loving father, sitting on her window sill looking up into the sky, wishing, hoping, and praying for an escape. She'd look up to the sky wondering how far it went. She wondered what else lay beneath it. She wondered if it ever ended. She liked to think it didn't. It was never ending. Miles and miles of endless things to do and see under it.

She would look out of the window as she sat curled up on the sill and stare at the street sometimes too. Her brain made up stories about how one day she just up and left. Packed a bag, snuck out one night, and just left. Left everything. And didn't even think about looking back. She walked for forever until she reached a big city with tons of different people. In the story she stayed there for a few nights sight seeing until she left, ready for a new place, a new adventure. She went everywhere she could. Sure, she was on the streets, but she was free.

Free.

That's how I feel. Well, freer than I have before.

I still want to leave this place. I have never liked it. I still want to go and see places. I'm just starting to think maybe I don't want to do it alone. Maybe I want my friends. Maybe I don't want to just sneak out one night all on my own and just be on the streets seeing everything. It still sounds amazing, I just don't want to do it alone. I've felt alone for so long and now I have people. Granted, its not many, but its enough.

I found myself at the beginning of the woods at the bottom of the hill that goes to the cliff. I don't really remember leaving the house or the walk over here, but I kept walking. Over the fallen branches, crunching the leaves below me, keeping my jacket firmly wrapped around me until I reached the top.

It was perfect timing.

The sun was setting, the wind was blowing just enough to make the trees sway making the russling sound I loved. The waves were wild, crashing and thrashing down below, hitting the sharp rocks before falling back into itself.

I let myself fall onto the ground staring up at the sky. The feeling of a smile twitched at my lips. My hands lay across my stomach, my legs stretched out in front of me.

This is what I loved.

It was nice to be here without a million thoughts going through my head.