>>501247287The edge came up fast, faster than he ever thought it would. One second he was there, boots planted firm in the damp earth, eyes scanning the horizon with that practiced, detached gaze of his. The next? He was weightless. Suspended, like the whole world had turned to glass, and he was just some insect trapped in it. The air whistled past his ears as he went over, cold and sharp, slicing into him as he plummeted toward the jagged teeth of the rocks below.
He had time for maybe one thought, a flash of realization that stung worse than the wind tearing at his clothes: someone had pushed him. It wasn’t the cliff’s fault, or the whiskey burning in his gut—it was deliberate. Calculated. He could feel their handprint still lingering between his shoulder blades, like a brand. It was a betrayal that settled deep in his bones, the kind that doesn’t fade away, even as the ground rushes up to meet you.
For a heartbeat, he fought against it, arms flailing, fingers clawing at the empty air. It was instinct, nothing more—he’d always been a fighter, even when the odds were as long as the fall below him. But there was nothing to grab, no ledge to catch, only the gray smear of the sky above, shrinking smaller and smaller with every passing second.
The roar of the waves grew louder, the rocks waiting like silent spectators, ready to swallow him whole. In those final moments, as the wind screamed and the sea surged up to claim him, he felt a strange calm settle over him, cold and bitter as the salt spray. He’d always known it might end like this—alone, in the dark, without a soul left to mourn. That was the life he’d chosen, after all.
