"My baby!" I sobbed, crying into the sleeve of my shirt. It smelt like him, the lingering baby smell smothered the surface of my clothing, and I couldn't take it. I honestly thought my heart was being ripped out, torn from the very core of my body and strung up for everyone to see. The nurses looked sympathetic, a sense of loss rippling out from them, as if it were their own child that had just perished. My teeth gritted together as I pulled the tubes from my body out, leaving them useless on the bed. They tried to stop me from running of course, but I somehow managed to escape. The loss of my child had set of a chain reaction inside of me; I was not giving up, I was not living without him. My legs took me to the only place I felt the need to go to; Hethcrow Cliffs.

As the water lapped over the rocks below, the face of the baby, my baby stung my mind. Tears still overflowed from my red eyes, snaking down my flushed face like they were trying to get away. His cry, his smell, his eyes, his body; It all flew around in my head. I was 99% certain that I was not going to make it without him, so I jumped; I escaped this fateful life. As I fell through the air, my lungs seemed to be filled with concrete, and my whole body felt weak. The piercing waves sliced through my battered body, and for the first time in a long time, I felt free. I wondered why I wasn't in pain. This should hurt, it should make me want to live, but it didn't, instead, my eyes closed and I let the water take control of me.

Two icy cold hands gripped at my shoulders, pulling me out from underneath the splintering ocean. The only thing I felt was the gravel under my body as I was laid on the floor. Small rocks seemed to stick into my body, and crash through my skin. I was not prepared for what was about to happen, for the burning pain in my neck. I could feel his nose nuzzled into my neck, his lips searching over my skin. At first, I thought he was kissing the skin there, but when I felt two, sharp points graze my neck, I knew something wasn't right. I don't remember much about it, I only remember the pain, the excruciating, burning pain that cursed through my body. This was what I deserved, this is the pain I had wanted all along; so why was I so desperate to escape it? This couldn't be paradise, this couldn't be the place you went after death. There was too much pain.
Sometimes, I would hear him wince, even cry as I screamed and thrashed in the bed. The surroundings were different now; I could smell wood, freshly cut, and the cotton fibres of the blanket I was wrapped up in. It had been three days since the pain began, and now it seemed to be easing. My heart still splintered out with bridges of fire and ice. The two sensations should have cancelled one another out, but instead, they fought against each other. The fire sprinted throughout my body, while the ice cursed through my veins. The pain in my hands and feet was gone now, erased. I lifted one finger to check, which ended with a heart-wrenching scream. He was by my side within a second, his cold hands touching my forehead. My body arched upwards as my heart began to slow. I fell back to the bed, my heart no longer beating. I must be dead, surely. My heart was dead; my lungs were dead; so I must have perished with them. I was wrong. His hand was still soothing me, smoothing out the crease between my eyebrows as I tried to figure out what had happened.