At The Edge Of The Cliff | Short Story by Omemu Moyo Esther

AT THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF 
She stood by the river bank, her tears dripping down in tiny droplets,
today marked the fourth anniversary and though that long time had
passed, the pain hadn’t. It was a very agonizing struggle to wake up
this morning and live the day. On many occasions she had fought the urge
to go back under her white covers and sleep till the next day so it
would all roll over without her noticing but life didn’t work that way
and according to her therapist she had to face it heads on to get
better. No matter how hard she tried to avoid it and push it aside, it
would still come back so why bother. She continued trailing the path of
the familiar road she had come to love and hate as well. The place was a
hallmark of great memories, one that made her smile and cry, and to be
honest, she had cried more. Inhaling the cool breeze, she sucked in her
tears and tried to focus on the good memories of this place and really
tried to act as happy as he would have wanted her to be…note, the
objective word being tried because in the end she fell on her knees and
just wept, crying for everything. 
For him, for her loss, for her family, for his, for her problems and for the first time in many years, for herself. 
Once her tear gland had dried up, she stood up and walked to the set of
broken blocks that sat on the abandoned construction site. The one thing
that used to serve as a getaway for both of them when reality got too
harsh. She remembered how they would both come here and sit atop the
rock, wishing for a life of their fantasies. They would make up things
they knew may never come to pass, like the one time she wished they for
24/7 electricity. Sitting there was purgatory for them, a means to
forget reality. 
Life was not fair and she knew it, she had always known. Her life had
never been a bed of roses and unlike many of her peers, she didn’t have
the luxury to believe in picture perfect family with a house of gold.
She was used to the intricacies of life and had suffered through dark
side of life numerous times yet none of those experiences could have
prepared her enough for her loss. 
It came without warning or foretell and till now, it felt like she was
still under her duvet having a nightmare. Life should have given her
more time so at least she could ease slowly into this painful reality.
He had been her forever, the one person she had convinced herself would
never leave but no, nothing good lasts forever. No one in her life
stayed, not even the ones she had dared to call family yet she basked in
the delusion that maybe this one was different. Life created an
illusion that her happiness was here to stay. 
Fate, that bastard, he had written another script for her and made her
the lead. Just when she thought it was for real, she was greeted one
afternoon by sad looking officers with a familiar wallet and a ring. 
For many days, she wanted it to be a nightmare, he was still alive and
she was just insecure but every time she picked up the phone and called
the bald head man who had taken him, the story was the same and his
words too…Sarah, move on with your life. 
First week, she couldn’t believe it…she didn’t see his body, how was she
to accept his death and move, there had to be a mistake. Four years
later, there was no mistake…he was gone!
She didn’t know her legs was moving until she felt herself at the edge
of a cliff, faced between a massive pool of water and dry land, how had
she walked that far?
She looked back and saw the blocks at the distance faraway. Her whole
life was behind her in a distance. She stopped to think about it, what
was there, was anything there waiting for her? 
She was standing between two worlds, one that included her a sad
reminder of all she had lost and the other, a break from her sorrows. 
She paused, trying to decide. If she turned back, she was going to be
returning to her sad and lonely life, where waking up was like salt on
opened wounds…a life where he no longer was part of and the other
world…freedom, what would a sane person choose?
Freedom over pain…
She weighed her options, tears running down her cheeks. It was hurting, he would have wanted her to live and find happiness. 
I am so sorry, Dayo 
As she stood there contemplating, her phone began to ring, playing a familiar tune.
Mr. Nnamdi
She sighed, he was probably calling to reply her with the usual message,
He is dead and gone Sarah, you have to stop calling. A mix of pain and
anger bubbled up within her. She looked at the phone one last time
before flinging it.
Why was she even hesitating, the decision was clear, 
GOODBYE LIFE, she said as she jumped.
She had barely reached down when a message chimed on her already broken phone….
Sarah, we just found him, HE IS ALIVE!
AUTHOR


Omemu Moyo Esther, a 400 level student of Mass communication and an
ardent fan of psychology. Humans beings are the most interesting things
on earth yet the most disturbing and that’s the beauty of writing a book
for me. The feeling i get as i try to figuring out the mind of my
characters and divide me into varied personalities to tell their story
better is a feeling like no other