She'd always thought of cliffs as overlooking water. Great massive sheer faces, cutting across nature, while at the same time connecting them. She had always wanted to paint them. Nature was all about curves, yet a cliff cut it in half.

She had, of course, never actually seen a cliff up close.

Since that time, she had lost some of that conviction of their beauty. She knew now that they were deadly, dangerous. They were lonely places, fit perfectly for suicides. Where once, those suicides would have been fitted for romance, now they were just the symbol of life - lonely.

And yet, here she was again. Standing on the edge - almost. Not quite close enough to look over the edge. She'd never seen anything below. It had just been a void. She would rather have the void than any other unearthly visions from below.

Once, before, she had stood here. Fallen here. Slipped here. Held on without knowing why. Cried out for help without hearing her own scratched voice. Cursed a god that had left her.

And then, she gave up on holding on. She prepared to let go, to fall. And a hand had grasped her arm. A weakened angel, her face a brilliant diamond, held her up. without the strength to hold herself, and none to hold them both, the angel had still grabbed her. When she had slipped, the angel had followed her, keeping them both alive - barely.

Hidden onlookers, unheeded previously, had called a rescue team. They had climbed down, pulled her up. Left the angel, as she was unnoticed. She had babbled about how thankful she was to the angel, and yet the doctors claimed that there had been no one there. That she had been alone. That they were glad they had gotten to her when they did.

And she had listened to them. She forgot about the angel. She moved away from the cliff. But not after many heart-wrenching conversations with the angel. Without falling in love with the pure soul.

One day, she and her angel did not talk. And she survived. And she lost a little bit of faith. Each day, she and the angel slowly moved apart. Sometimes they would still talk, but the distance grew. She could not always understand what her angel cried to her. She did not recognize when the cries of love turned into cries for help.

In a world of fog, she had wandered from the cliff. Yet the angel had stayed near, not being able to pull herself up all the way. Rather than help, she had walked away.

At the desperate cry of the angel, pleading for help, she had come running. However, desperation turned into anger. Both hearts breaking, a fight commenced. She was rested, having escaped the cliff. The angel had not. There was only one outcome. With a shove, the angel fell over the cliff. Their screams had echoed in the visionless void.

A last cry of forgiveness and acceptance had reached her ears, as she watched the diamond fade.

Time passed. Life happened, as it was wont to do. She had danced around the cliff, mostly away, sometimes straying closer. Running away screaming, building walls, and the next day tearing them down. The cliff, and the angel, were in her mind.

And now, she had returned. The winds that pushed her nearer were empty now, yet she could still hear her angel's screams. She turned into the arms of her companion for comfort, and they stood. He tried to pull her away, but she could not leave. After pulling, gently and less so, he turned from her. He told her he had someone else to go to. Shocked, she watched his receding back, and stumbled back in horror, pain, fear, shock.

As her mind registered that her feet no longer were on the ground, she wondered if her angels weakened wings had yet healed.