She was certain she used to do this without feeling this way. She was certain she was able to pass air from the outside to her lungs without feeling that subtle twinge of guilt which had now become so familiar and welcoming. She was certain.

She was certain that at one point she had smiled without a thought to how the situation would end badly. The girl with the looking glass eyes had once smiled, right? She was certain she used to feel light, airy, not weighed down by the ties that held her now. She was certain.

She was certain that she used to be able to see the good in life, in people, in herself…but now her eyes filled themselves with darkness and left themselves to be eaten up by the world’s transgressions. She, a hollow shell of her former self, gazed out longingly over the world below her feet. The world she would soon become a part of, mixing herself up with the peculiar setting.

She was certain she had never felt so cold, the breeze in the air was a similar temperature of the one found in her broken heart. She clutched her hand to her chest as her frail body quivered against the cold. She was certain she had once been warm, she had once been able to feel something other than the cold bite of regret.

She was certain she had never been so alive, or at least not since before the incident. She was certain, that this was as alive as she would ever have to be, and she stepped off the edge.