Diving In

She stood on the cliff, staring out across the water. 

Her brother had used to race to this exact cliff with his friends, she remembered. Every year, right after the last day of school, they would celebrate by coming here and jumping off. The water would catch them, it's waves lifting high up to embrace each tiny, falling person. For long moments they might not surface, and she would peer out over the ocean, becoming increasingly worried.

They never failed to burst upwards though, shaking water out of their hair and laughing as they did so. Then they would ask if "the little sister" wanted to join them and swim, but she never did, because she was content to just stand and gaze at the light-filled water and at the gleaming fish that inhabited it.

The water here used to be so clear—you could stare down from this cliff, thirty feet above it and see the sandy ocean floor perfectly...

She drew a breath now, lowering her eyes to take another look at the dismal view below her. Soda cans, plastic bags, and food wrappers floated in the muddied, discolored water. As she watched, a wave crashed against the cliff, leaving the rubbish that it carried plastered against the rocky side. She shuddered, looking away. There would be no more schoolchildren swimming in the ocean, she thought sadly. Not when it had become the worlds' garbage can. 

Turning her body away, she started clambering back down the well-worn path, which has since become a haven for pieces of broken plastic, paper, and metal. It was difficult, trying to get around all of it. Especially because the sides of the path were crowded with overgrown plants, reaching out in tangled clumps to hide where she was stepping.

Stumbling suddenly, she tripped over a clump of plastic concealed by a cluster of lengthy grasses and fell with a loud oof. She struggled, trying to push herself up, but her walking stick had been dropped into the undergrowth. It was unlikely her walking would be resumed without it. She gave a heavy sigh and used her hands to drag herself over to the plants, and began clawing at the weeds. A minute had not even passed when she heard light footsteps running towards her, nimbly leaping over the garbage that littered the path.

Strange, she thought, almost dully. I have not heard nor seen anyone besides me making the climb up here since my return.

Even stranger was that the footsteps stopped in front of her. For a few moments, she listened to the person panting as they caught their breath. Then she tilted her head upwards to face them.