Forest

Prologue

I stand at the edge of the hill, looking out over the darkness below, wondering about the life I could have lived if I hadn't been born here, in this place, into this story. Down below lies the start of the beach—a place that draws crowds in summer. People like being here for fun, performing flips and twists, showing off to the crowd. But in weather like this, no one jumps. In the cold, in the dark, with the rain hammering down, the thunder that light up de the sky and the waves crashing below, they know it's dangerous. And those who've tried it at night... not all of them walked away unscathed, some even ended up dead.

Now, I stand here alone, drenched to the bone, wind shrieking around me, and thunder crashing in my ears. Every few moments, the sky flashes with lightning, turning the whole world into sharp, silver outlines. My mind is screaming to turn back, to step away from the edge. It insists things will eventually get better, that this is only a phase. But my heart—the part of me that feels like it's been shattered and mended too many times—no longer believes that. My heart wants peace, finally, after all this time.

I keep trying to hold myself together, gathering what fragments I can find, but it's like holding water in cupped hands; it just slips away. And here, now, with no one to see and no one to care, the thought of letting it all go becomes something I can almost taste. If only I could flip a switch and change everything, but there is no switch. There's only this relentless, hollow ache.

I breathe in deeply, savoring the smell of the rain, the heavy, brooding sky, the electric tang of lightning in the air. One step, and I know it would be over. One step, and all of this pain and the struggle and noise, would end.

If this is goodbye, I hope they understand. I just don't know how to go on. And before I can think again, I let myself take that final step, surrendering to the darkness waiting below.