She called out his name in the silence, like he could actually hear, like he would actually care.
Her fingers hurt; sharp pain where the rock had sliced her skin open, and a dull ache, where the pressure of carrying her weight had created bruises. It was also cold. Her fingers would be numb, if they didn’t hurt so much. The wind whipped through her auburn hair and her cheeks stung with the chill in the air.
As her exhausted fingers groped the top of the cliff, relief washed over her, warm and welcoming. She hauled her tired body over the precipice and collapsed on the cold stone, face in a lonely tuft of grass. Her throat felt restricted as she gasped the cold air into her lungs.
When the pain in her fingers faded into the background, she pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the cliff. Staring down into the frothing sea, she felt the raw pain boil to the surface once again. An unbidden scream tore it’s way out of her chest. She screamed his name into the silence of the fading cloudy day, like he could actually hear her. She cursed his existence, like he would actually care. She sobbed and screamed, until she could no more.