Author's Note: This is going to seem weird, but I condensed the previously seperate chapters nine and ten into one chapter (now chapter nine) because I need to end "book two" with this current chapter, and in order to do that, I would have needed to change the format of the entire story. It was eaiser to do this. I hope I haven't confused anyone... and because of the condensing, If you want to review, and you had previously, it won't let you unless you do it annomyously. (hint, hint, smile smile)

*giant exhale* again, sorry about all that, just structure wise, it got messed up because I was in a rush to update last time, I didn't realize exactly where I was at. Thanks for stickin with it.

And major, major, thanks goes out to Permanent Rose, because without her, this chapter probably wouldn't have happened. Thanks girl. Seriously. :)

Okay, I'm done now. I promise, enjoy.

California was everything I'd hoped for and more. It was easy, to find a job teaching, as they were in desperate need. No one questioned my story about my husband being dead - killed in the war – and neither did they make an effort to intrude on affairs I claimed to be personal.

I'd been there for a week and a half, when Nathaniel came to me. He was a beautiful baby, the most beautiful ever. I know all parents think that of their children, but I was so sure it was true. Though he was small, he had a small patch of dark hair that sat atop his head, and the clearest blue eyes you could ever imagine.

He was the first person who ever completely belonged to me.

I vowed to myself he'd have the world. The best clothing, the best schools, and someday, a true family. I'd see that he would be raised with kindness, not a trace of his father would be found inside my perfect son.

But as quickly as he'd come, he was taken away. All the hopes I'd had, everything was dashed, and my world, the world I'd worked so hard to build without my husband, came crashing down around me.

I'd only lain him down for a nap. Children need naps. Only Nathaniel didn't wake up from his. I remember collapsing into tears when the doctor pronounced him dead, he might as well have pronounced me as well. Because as long as there was Nathaniel, I think I stood a chance at survival without Charles. He gave me something to fight for, and beyond that, something to hold onto.

Every once of hope, every bit of happiness was robbed from in that one moment when I saw his pallid, lifeless face. I picked my small baby from his cradle and held his limp body to my bosom, praying that by some miracle, he might somehow wake.

But he never did.

The days that followed only grew more hopeless and bleak. I couldn't bear to move Nathaniel's empty cradle from the side of my bed. Moving it would confirm that he was truly gone.

Only a week after his death, I woke up only to find I barely had the strength to rise from my bed. I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten; my head spun from the lack of nourishment. I reached out to clutch the side of Nathaniel's cradle, only an arm's length from my bedside. I rocked it gently.

Back and forth.

Back in forth.

I couldn't stop the stream of tears that followed. I was surprised I even had any left to cry. I choked on my sobs, my stomach heaving, but I only managed to throw up air. There was nothing left, physically or emotionally.

Nothing.

Suddenly it didn't matter that I had escaped from Charles' brutal clutch. It didn't matter that I now had my own life, a decent job, a house of my own. What was the purpose of all these things if I had no one to share them with?

No purpose. Nothing.

There was nothing left.

I would've gladly wasted away to nothing beneath the covers of my bed, but I knew that would take days of heart wrenching pain. I wanted it to be over now.

With every last ounce of strength I could muster, I rose from my bed. I didn't bother to dress or tame my wild hair. What did it matter if I left this world in my best dress or my thin nightgown?

I pulled a fraying shawl around my thin shoulders and slipped on the first pair of shoes I could find.

And then I left. I left without even so much as a backwards glance at my small home, at the place where I had ultimately ended up.

None of that mattered anymore.

The rain was razor-thin and mean with cold, a miserable drizzle that sliced through the bones and into the spirit. It turned light blanket of dust that regularly coated the ground into a mire of mud, and the dawn light into a gloomy smear on the sky.

I didn't know where I was going, but my subconscious seemed to be leading me somehow. I ended up at the edge of the steep cliff, the wind whipping around me as a stared down the slope of the rocky crag.

I gulped, suddenly feeling a wave of terror course through me. I sat down on the rocky ground, ignoring the sharp jab of the stones. My heart rate accelerated as truly realized what I was going to do.

But as I thought of my life, the panic dimmed.

There's nothing left, I reminded myself. Nothing.

Nothing.

There were people on the ground below, walking along the beach, hurrying home to their families and friends, desperate to get out of the chill and the rain. Because they had places to be, and people who cared. The looked like mere flecks from where I was, hardly like people at all. I thought of how Nathaniel would've pointed and laughed, so easily amused by things he did not understand. So much he did not get to experience, so much he would never know. And I thought of the ant-like people again, knew, my death would not affect them in the least. The rocks at the base of the cliff would even prevent my body from inconveniencing them.

The minute I'd stood up, I'd jumped off the cliff. The world went by in a haze of color and light, my weight accelerated head–over–heels. Then I thought: Falling is the first step in learning how to fly. And there was nothing more, I let myself be taken under, let the blackness envelope me.