| There. There it is. I begin to head toward the cliff, paying little heed to the howling winds that whip angrily all around me. My room mate showed me this place the first time she convinced me to come out with her. I'm so distraught that I can't even remember her name although we've been rooming together ever since we both came to Harvard. It's a beautiful place when the sun is out, and there's no more lovelier place in the city to watch the sun rise or set. But here in the stormy night, it seems to spell both tragedy and final relief. The rain goes on (on and on again) The rain goes on (on and on again) The rain goes on (on and on again) I have no ideal how long it takes me to climb up the rocky cliff, but eventually I make it to the top just as the storm reaches its peak. Here, in the night, no one can see me. I can do whatever I like, and no one can stop me. I walk carefully to the very edge of the cliff and look down. Water crashes against rock far, far below. Maybe it's too late Maybe it's too late to try again Maybe I can't pray Maybe I can't wait Maybe I can't blame the weatherman As long as I live, I'll never be able to stop this horrible pain and this terrible aching that fills every fiber of my being, but maybe here and now, I can finally stop it all. For just a moment, my mind goes back to my family. There is no longer any love lost between my Father and me, and Jack's moved on. He no longer needs me. Tim's already waiting for me, and I know that Mom doesn't have very much longer. For one last time, my mind goes to Pacey. How will he take the news of my death? Will he even care? Why should he care? He has no feelings left for me. I shake my arms out slightly and close my eyes, trying to calm myself for I know what I must do. I lift up to the balls of my feet, and then . . . My cell phone suddenly rings. I ignore it at first, but then it rings again. What can one last call possibly do? What harm can it do to me to speak to whoever actually cared enough to call me? I can always jump as soon as I hang up the phone. I force myself to relax as I take a few steps back. Then, I take out my cell, turn it on, and press it to my ear. "Hello?" My breath catches in my throat as I wait, and even now a part of me prays that it's Pacey. Finally, the answer comes. "Andie?" His voice is soft, and I wonder for a second if that's fear I hear in his voice or if it's just the storm playing havoc on the signals. The rain goes on (on and on again) The rain goes on (on and on again) The rain goes on (on and on again) Regardless, it's not Pacey. "Hey, Jack." I'm careful to keep my voice neutral and to keep from allowing myself to let him know how depressed I am. "How are you, sis?" I'm surprised at the concern I hear in his voice. "Just fine," I lie with practiced calm and ease. "But I'm guessing you're not?" He begins to babble like a bottle of water that some one's had the lid on for months on end and has only now popped open the cork. It seems he's having trouble at college. He's finally found a place he belongs with a fraternity, but none of the old gang can understand. I can tell from his tone that he's desperate to find a way to combine the two, almost as desperate as he is for some one to finally truly listen to him and understand. I listen to him talk, giving him time to let it out, even as I turn my back to the drop from the cliff and slowly begin the long trek back down. Oh blame it on the weatherman. Maybe, just maybe, I do still have a reason to hang around. The End |