Day Seven

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The sun is setting. I sit on the edge, feet dangling off, watching the golden and pink rays reflected on the beautiful buildings. The orange light warms me and makes me feel better.

It's day seven. I've come up to this roof everyday for the past week.

Why do I keep doing this?

I look down at the cement far below my feet. It looks inviting.

I want to go down to it.

The wind picks up, pushing me so I fall backwards, away from the edge.

Does it not want me to die?

The sun's gone down now and the stars are coming out, dotting the indigo sky. How pretty.

I don't want to leave behind a world with such beauty. I pick up my bag and walk away, before glancing back at the edge.

It looks so inviting.

But not today.

It's day seven.

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