How far will you go to be with the one you love the most?
This is a Short story I've done as an English assignment. Hope you enjoy. :)


1. The Beginning and End

‘Arghhh’ I screamed as I stood on tip toes. There was no one around anymore; I was alone, like I always was. The view from Burleigh Headland was always amazing, but it was just magical at nightfall. It hadn’t seemed like a year had passed, but it had. I still longed to be with her, the one I owed my life to. People don’t see how unhappy I really am, all they see is a smiling teenage girl. But they were wrong; I hadn’t smiled, a real smile, for over a year now. I knew people would miss me for a small while, but not as much as I missed my Mum. She didn’t have a choice to go, not like me. I paced up and down the blue, concrete path. I waited until 7.10pm precisely, the exact time I found out a year ago. There was still at least another hour to go, I wasn’t in the right mind to do math. I wasn’t in the right mind to do anything. I started to get light headed and feeling sick, I hadn’t eaten in days, it’s not that I couldn’t, I just had a feeling that the tablets would be more affective on an empty stomach, but if that didn’t work I didn’t want to be found splattered everywhere with digested food around me. The bench was cold. I shivered, Mum would always say it meant someone walked over your grave, I prayed that no one liked to go for night walks up a mountain. I checked my phone, it had only been ten minutes but my battery had gone down 2%. Hopefully it would stay charged all night, it had my suicide note on it, I didn’t want to write one at home and leave it in my room, someone was bound to find it and try to stop me. ‘Coming Home’ by Diddy replayed over and over in my head. Mum chose that song to be played at her funeral a couple of years ago; I couldn’t listen to it after that day. Time was nearing now. I looked up, through the drooping trees splattered with water, past the stars, into the darkness of the sky. “I’m coming Mummy. I’ve missed you.” I planted the Orchid, Mum’s favourite flowers, and placed my phone on the soil. I took one last look at the first photo of Mum and me together, it was just after I was born, she had a look of joy on her face, but her eyes told a different story. I never had really fit in, I was a middle child, there was nothing special about me. I was a nuisance. Mum and I will be reunited and we can start over, I will be there alone, not having to worry about siblings. Though I did love my siblings a great deal, in fact they were the reason I lasted this long without Mum. Yes they were sad but they were at peace with Mum, I had made her life miserable, even when she was going through so much, we just carried on, not sorting anything out. Now was my time to share with her. It was time, I pulled out my pill filled twisted gladwrap. I had an ecofriendly, degradable, plastic water bottle as there were no bins up here. One by one I swallowed them. As I felt sicker and sicker I walked through a gap in the railings and to the end of the ledge. It was the first place we scattered Mums ashes. This was her escape, every morning she would run up here just to clear her mind and be free. This is her freedom. My baby blue, dolphin covered, watch; that I got when I was eight, ticked 7.10pm. I jumped. Now I had my freedom. As I plummeted toward the rocky ocean I felt like I was flying. A smile widened on my face. The unexpected happened when I landed. I didn’t think I would be able to survive the fall. I opened my eyes to see white. I was comfortable and warm. There next to me, Mum laid, peaceful, her hand clutching to mine, like she didn’t want to lose me. ‘Is this what heaven feels like?’ I questioned to myself. Mum noticed me looking worried, “You had a nightmare again,” she smiled and kissed my forehead. We were at home, safe. I scrambled through the wardrobe trying to find the medication, there was none. Mum was okay, there was no cancer, no pain, no sickness, and no fear of losing her. I smelt pancakes; I wondered who was cooking them. I chucked my hair up in a ponytail before realising where I actually was. Our family home. I ran down the hall to see a man in the kitchen with four of the six bar stools occupied. He turned around, it was dad. He was still here, he hadn’t left us. I ran up to him before squeezing tightly not wanting to let go. I did the same to my brother and sisters. Mum got up, I didn’t want to let go, never in a million years. “I love you, all of you.” This was my real freedom.
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