It was a long way down. Todd Tolansky shuddered as a cold wind whipped around him and took another drink from the bottle before dropping it off the cliff, watching as it shattered on the rocks a good fifteen to twenty feet below. The waves quickly washed away any traces of glass or alcohol. Todd absently hugged himself and fell to his knees. What was he even doing here? Did he honestly want to end it all? Was he even drunk enough to go through with it? Yes. Yes to all. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to do it. What did that mean? It wasn't like he had many friends. No one to mourn for him once he was gone. So what was keeping him rooted to the top of the cliff?