Cliffhanger
By
Jack Bushell
She stands atop the jagged cliff looking out on the rest of the world through bleary eyes. From here she sees for miles and miles in every direction, for no other hill or mountain around reaches the sky quite as high as this one. She embraces herself tightly as if chilled, yet the sun beats her bare arms hard, leaving beads of sweat glistening through the fine dust that layers her skin. Far down the side of the cliff, beyond the jagged outcroppings and just beyond the fields at the foot of the mountain, she knows lies Gaoling and she feels the tears spring up again. With all of her might she chokes back a sob and violently shakes her head, willing the crying away. She sighs deeply, turning her attention anywhere but home.
She strains her eyes in the direction of the gentle summer breeze which plays lightly with her hair she still but cannot see anything. Nothing. Never. Nothing but the darkness and she's alright with that…even now.
A creek flows noisily down the cliff just underneath her and she wonders if she'll hit it on the way down. She hugs herself tighter and shivers at the thought of accidently living through what she is about to do.
The rocky earth is warm between her toes as she digs them deeper into the dirt, as if her body is relenting against her mind, trying to save itself from the injuries to come. She absentmindedly touches the deep scratches that run down both sides of her tearstained face. Her fingertips touch dried blood and somewhere, somewhere far away in the deepest recesses of her consciousness, she questions her decision.
A wave of shame and unimaginable sorrow overwhelms her as the days events swim into focus. Her knees begin to buckle and the tears she has fought so hard against overtake her, reminding her that no matter what has transpired in her life, no matter how good an earth bender and fighter she has become, she is still nothing more than a little girl. She collapses in the dirt, wiping her wet eyes furiously as a flood of tears drowns her. The sobbing comes next, in the form of sorrowful hitches and moans.
She tastes blood and realizes she has reopened the scratches on her face; gouges that she, herself, caused in a fit of despair when she realized what had happened, understood what she had done.
Slowly and deliberately she stands. Hugging herself tighter than ever and shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she steps purposefully to the very edge of the cliff. Teardrops of blood fly from her face as she unmercifully screams into the sky with every last ounce of her soul. With one last heavy sob, Toph lifts her foot to step over the edge.