quick warning for mentions of suicide I guess?  its not a big part of it but I reckon I should put a warning here anyway

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She steps out of the back door, letting it close ever so softly as to not awaken her parents. Despite their bedrooms being halfway across the house, she wishes to be as careful as she can not to be seen or heard. Even the sound of the grass, stiff with pre-dawn frost, makes her flinch as it crunches beneath her feet with each light step she takes. The cold air hits her and she shivers. Her winter pyjamas, though the long garments are made of thick fabric, do little against the initial shock. She half expected there to be snow. It doesn't normally snow at her home at all, let alone this early in the year. However, she can't help but imagine how it would feel to go walking up to her special place and find it transformed by a fresh snowfall.

But as she walks away from the house and towards her destination, the sky remains a cloudless indigo, pastel pink and blue gathering on the horizon. The sun is waking, stretching its rays across the eastern valley before it forces itself to rise. It's too early yet for wildlife to be stirring. For now, the world is still, with only the steady crunch of joggers on icy grass breaking the silence. It's here, out in the open, where she fears being seen the most- all it would take would be one of her parents to peek out their window in a bleary-eyed daze, and she'd be surely sent back inside. She didn't want that to happen- not only because she didn't want to get into trouble. Leaving here without visiting her place one last time would feel a hundred times worse than being scolded ever could.

Taking the narrow path up the hill feels like whispering a dearly-held secret, no matter how many times she does it. This time, it feels like whispering the inevitable truth to a dying person.

She leaves pale green footsteps in the grass behind her where her old shoes have soaked up the dew. They're soaked through, the chilly dampness seeping through her socks and making her feet numb. Branches brush and tug at her sleeves as she walks, leafy fingers reaching out to touch her. The vegetation is taller and thicker up here, only slightly worn by her and her family's use of the path. Her clothes are sticking to her skin from the moisture they've absorbed from brushing against the plants. The cold of the autumn morning is wrapping her in its embrace. She could be in her bed now, perhaps. But she'd be wrapped in a sleeping bag rather than her sheets, as if she no longer belonged in her home. Being out in the cold was preferable, if it meant she'd get to see this view one more time. A small clearing opens up in the trees up ahead and she runs towards it with new enthusiasm, ignoring the feeling of the damp fabric chafing against her skin.

She can see everything from up here. The other houses, mostly vacated now, dotted here and there among the subdued green and brown of the faintly lit landscape. The subtle gap in the vegetation where the river flowed, a dark patch in the distance where a fire had burned out part of the neighbouring property. Her parents don't like it when she comes up here alone, but she always does. It's her favourite place in the world. Why shouldn't she?

They're worried about the 'cliff'. Even with the mixed storm of emotions inside her, she scoffs at the thought. Cliff. The drop before her now is hardly a precipice. She looked down towards its base, where the vegetation struggled to grow, worn away by the runoff that came rushing over it when they got too much rain. It had been some time since their last downpour, and tussocks of grass had started to cling to the slope. Handholds that would probably allow her to climb down it, if she wished. But she doesn't quite dare to. She doesn't trust herself not to fall. Now that would be a morbid sight for her parents on their moving day- driving down the hillside road to look for her, only to see a bright yet unmoving bundle laying beside a sharp outcrop on the slope. This place was visible from the main road, if you knew where to look. It would be too far away to see any blood. But they'd know it was her, the red jacket she was wearing was unmistakable even from a distance...

She wasn't sure why she was putting so much thought into this imagining- it wasn't going to happen. Her posture, leaning back against the rough bark of the tree remains the same as it was when she first leant against it, forcibly relaxed and gazing out at the view she is so familiar with. She already knows what she is going to do. She's going to stay here for as long as she can, watching the sun rise until the warm rays start to cut through the cold that has sunk into her. She'll watch the dawn fill the world with colour. Then she will walk back to her almost empty house, and get in the car to leave it, probably forever. In a few weeks, the construction crews will come in and start their work. The entire group of properties will be knocked to the ground to make way for the new construction. Her place will be gone. She won't be able to come back- and why would she, to find it completely unrecognisable?

She knows that she's going to go with her parents. There is no choice for her to stay. The dawn has broken, sun finally risen above the now-vibrant horizon to cast the first true shadows of the new day. The stars had faded out without her noticing- not until they had blended into the slowly brightening sky.

The call of a bird carries in the still air. It acts upon her like an electric shock, causing her to spring to alertness, wide eyed and tensed all over. She thinks of running. She thinks of hiding.

But she slumps back against the tree in silence- she doesn't have a choice.

She waits another few moments, listening to the birds- the first call had set off a chain reaction, and now birdsong was spreading from tree to tree. They were losing their home too, she realised- she wasn't the only one. Many of them would also fly away when the workers came. They'd find new homes- they would survive. She pushes herself off the tree with one hand, resting it there and feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin.

But she cannot resist the urge to look back, one final gaze as she walks away and allows the clearing to fade from view.