I DON'T REMEMBER WHEN THEIR VOICES STOPPED CALLING AFTER ME. Perhaps it was once I entered the dense woodland, pushing further and further in. Branches snagged at the skirt of my pinafore, tearing it. The rip and my thundering footsteps broke the silence of the forest, birds scattering from their perches in the tallest trees. They squawked in protest, filling the navy sky with dark shadows passing over the full moon lighting up the sky.

Out in the wilderness, everything was the same. I didn't follow a path—not for lack of trying—but ran alongside the creak where the gentle tinkle of water led me deeper into the forest. The trees on either side loomed above me, ignoring my presence as I disturbed their home. I couldn't tell whether I was running in circles through the blur of tears or if I was making ground towards the village streets.

There were no signs or indications of where I was except a long-buried memory from years ago. It must have been somewhere along this stream of water where I hit my head.

After the news spilled from my mother's mouth, I screamed at her and Jonathan. He also said some choice words to me. The next thing I knew, something took control of my legs. A voice in my head shouted at me to run and to run faster.

At the creak, I slowed down when some neighbourhood boys began taunting me. They followed my every move, trying to block me from escaping. At some point, I must have stumbled on some rocks. The last memory before I blacked out was of the world tilting and falling around me.

I woke up in my bed back at Eleanor's home. Jonathan was there in a chair placed beside me, watching me closely with bated breath. Upon hearing me groan, he sprang into action and helped me sit up with a gentleness I never knew he possessed.

"I feel responsible for what happened," he'd said after helping me eat and drink. "If I handled it better—" He never finished the sentence, nor did he have to. Neither of us took the news well and both of us said things we would come to regret.

He was the only one who understood. But he was gone, buried six feet under along with any sign he'd been alive apart from half-arsed memorials and a gravestone made from black marble.

Finally, the trees opened, amber streetlight spilling through.

I slowed to a jog, my breath burning in my chest as I paused at the edge where green grass met charcoal tarmac. I stared ahead of me, the rush of water from below echoing up from the cliffsides hiding the river.

Amblewood Bridge stood before me, welcoming and foreboding. Something cracked inside my soul, and I realised why I was here. This was fate.

Despite the stitch in my stomach, my feet took charge. With each heavy step, they lead me closer and closer towards the railing protecting me from the harsh reality below. One foot on the bridge, another followed until I stiffly stared at the rocky water beneath me, licking the sides of the cliffs hungrily.

With a shuddering breath, I stared ahead at the curve where the cliffs moulded together, and the river could no longer be seen. Stars twinkled above, winking at me even though they were witnessing something horrible.

I knew how to make the pain stop. I knew how to end it.

Steeling myself, I climbed over the metal railing with shaky hands. My fingers were starch white against the midnight hues, gripping tightly with my feet planted on the short ledge. There were moments where I though my grip was about to slip, but they held steady.

I pressed my back further into the stone-cold metal and allowed the wind to run through the tangles of my hair as I closed my eyes. It would all end here and I was at peace with that. My mother would have my money—what she always wanted—and I would be with him. I wanted that more than anything. We could be happy, just like he promised me.

"Hey, you don't want to be doing that," a voice said softly from somewhere behind me.

I never heard them in the odd serenity of the moment. As everything in me snapped, I couldn't react either. I was too numb for it.

I sighed. "I do." I closed my eyes gently, ready to release myself from this heavy weight on my shoulders. "I really do."

"No, don't!" he shouted above the roar of the river below, his voice cracking.

The moment was gone alongside every ounce of peace I felt. I opened my eyes, twisting myself around to face him. Though I couldn't see him in the shadows where the streetlight couldn't reach, I could make out his broad shoulders and lean figure with the outline of unruly, wavy hair.

"I just want to sleep," I begged. "I don't want to fight anymore."

He reached out his hand towards me, but not to catch me. "I know how that feels," he said calmly. "I would also love to sleep if I had a chance, but I wouldn't want to sleep forever. Would you want to be asleep forever?"

I stared steadily at him, the tears drying on my face. "Yes," I said simply, leaning back and ready to let go.

"No," he quickly said, braving a step closer to me. "I mean— What about everyone who cares about you?"

I shrugged the best I could while hanging on. "They'll carry on," I said dreamily. "They don't need me."

"Someone might," he reasoned. "Tell me about someone who cares about you. Your mam?"

I flinched.

"Not your mam. Got it," he muttered quickly. "A friend maybe?"

I thought for a moment, my mind reattaching itself to my body. "Rena and Sky," I stated as their faces flashed in my head.

Memories danced in my mind's eye of us laughing in our favourite bar, Rena twirling around in the sitting room before beckoning us to dance alongside her, and helping Sky bake what he dubbed the 'worst cake in the history of cakes'.

"What are they like?" he asked tenderly.

"They're funny," I replied automatically. "Rena bombards any room she finds herself in. Sky is quiet, but a sweetheart."

He nodded, taking another step forward. "Would they want you here?"

I shook my head, biting my lip. "We were supposed to go to the bar. We should have gone to the bar," I sobbed. Fresh tears cumulated in my eyes, forcing the world into a blurry mess of colour again.

"Hey, it's alright," he reassured with a gentleness I'd only ever known from one other person. "You can still go to the bar. There's still time."

"I made my decision?" The emphasis on the question was not what I intended.

Had I not made up my mind? I was going to jump. Or was I? What about Rena and Sky? Was he right that there was still time to go to the pub? I didn't know anymore, nor did I want to. I just wanted it all to end.

I gazed up at the stars, wondering what they thought of me. "I wanted this to end," I murmured into the wind.

He was suddenly in front of me, his hands resting on top of mine. "Wanted?" he prodded.

I clenched my eyes shut. "I thought that's what I wanted."

"And now?" he pressed.

I felt a pressure in my chest. "I just want him back," I sobbed. My body moved with each one, a tightness entering my stomach as I began to crouch down from the pain.

His thumbs ran in circles around the tendons in my hand. "I don't think you want to do this," he said softly, kindly. "I think you want to live."

I let him soothe and calm me. Opening my eyes, I stared right into his bright blue irises. They glittered like the stars behind him. The moonlight illuminated his sharp jawline, tanned, smooth skin and young face. He couldn't have been much older than me.

His leather jacket hugged his slender figure. Pulled up at the collar, he looked like he came straight out of a 1950s movie. With his Danny Zuko good looks, he was a walking dream.

My breath hitched.

Gently, one of his hands let go of one of mine that was still clasped onto the railing. It snaked around my waist, the other joining it when he was sure I was secure in his arms. My grip slipped with a whine, but he was already lifting me over towards the firm path.

Before my feet safely hit the ground, he tripped, falling backwards—taking me inadvertently with him.

I tumbled on top of him with a moan, his back hitting the ground hard with the extra weight. From beneath me, he groaned. I leaned up and moved my hair away. Our faces were inches away from each other.

With his eyes clenched closed in what I could only assume was pain, his muscles tensed under my grip. He relaxed, opening them to look at me. A tender smile pulled at his lips.

"Hello," he murmured.

"I'm so sorry," I blurted out at the same time.

He chuckled but grimaced shortly after. "No need, but I would much appreciate it if you could get up so I can make sure nothing is broken," he gritted out.

"Oh," I muttered.

Nimbly, I pushed myself off him and stood up. I tried to be as gentle as possible but managed to catch him every so often with my weight. As he groaned from beside me to get up, I patted myself down and tried to compose myself.

Moments before, I wanted everything to end. But now everything inside me was renewing. The barriers I put around myself slowly rebuilt themselves. With them came a hollow hole in my chest from what I had been about to do. The cracks filled themselves in, but they would never fully repair. It would take time. It always did.

Another groan came from the stranger, pulling me away from what was happening to me.

I glanced at him, the amber glow of the streetlight just reaching the sharp bone structure of his cheeks. He was cute, I had to admit. However, he had also made himself my rescuer—if I could even call it that.

Running a hand through his thick curls, he glanced up. His eyes sparkled. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

I folded my arms over myself and shrugged. I didn't know how to answer.

He eyed my outfit from a safe distance—the torn-up shirt and pinafore and my unruly, knotted hair. "You look like you've been to hell and back," he bristled.

I rubbed my arms. Immediately, I felt myself shrink further inward, not wanting anything to do with him any longer. He'd saved me or whatever, now I could leave.

Turning on my heel, I made my way across the bridge from where I'd come with a shiver.

"Wait," he called. His pounding steps followed me until he was walking beside me. "Where are you going?"

"Away," I muttered uncertainly. "Home. Somewhere that isn't here."

He hummed. "What about what just happened?" he wondered pointedly.

I thought about falling onto him. That was his fault, not mine. I never wanted anyone to interfere.

With a sudden jolt of movement, he placed his hands on my shoulders and forced me to look at him. "I need to know you won't try to do that again."

I blinked.

A thought occurred to me—what if he knows who I am? If he told a reporter and it was published, I would never hear the end of it. Everyone would know what I'd done.

"Do you know who I am?" I blurted, a cold chill, that had nothing to do with the wind, running through me.

He shook his head, tilting it at the same time. "Am I supposed to?" he chuckled.

I stared at him for a long, hard moment to decipher his facial expressions. But there was no recognition from the moment he met me that he knew. All I saw was a young man confused—and uncomfortable—by my question.

"Never mind," I said under my breath.

"Hey, I've just met you and I'm sorry about whatever you're going through to make you feel like you needed to do that," he began.

I tried to shake him off, but at seeing his pleading expression chose to bite my tongue and stay for whatever he was about to say.

He sighed. "I just don't want you to feel alone," he finally said.

"Well, I am alone," I said, deciding to push him away and walk by myself.

Again, he skulked beside me with his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. We walked in silence for what felt like forever, even though we only walked a few metres away from the bridge. As another dagger-like breeze went through me, I shivered.

Seeming to think on his feet, he took off his leather jacket. Carefully, he crept closer and wrapped it around my shoulders. His hands lingered for a moment before he let me go.

"I wasn't cold," I lied with a sidelong glance at him.

He shrugged, smiling. "That doesn't matter. You need it more than I do from the looks of things."

With another shudder, I pulled it closer around me. "So how long are you planning to follow me?" I asked with a hint of annoyance.

"Until you get to where you're going," he said.

We settled into silence, walking side-by-side. The heaviness of what happened hung between us, but as I quietly stitched myself up, I began to feel more comfortable with him. It was nice, but I knew it wouldn't last long.  

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