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"Would you let it end?"
She gazed straight through me. Dry, cold, lost; her eyes muttered about her pain. Her image conveyed disturbing melancholy; like looking into a rotting wall, or a hazy November sky... The melancholy of someone with a torn up past.
I felt the atmosphere sink its dark shade, flattening everything onto the asphalt rooftop floor; specters dancing around in a waltz macabre. They twirled and shrieked and pulled on our hairs and clothes with silken strings and transparent smiles, inviting us to play their games under obscure clouds and strings of light. Yet she just stood there, looking towards God Knows What.
"Would you let it end?" She asked once more as she began to walk towards me, and then past. For a moment we stood there, back to back, close enough to hear each other breathe.
"I would not." I miserably said.
She feebly smiled and then kept walking away with Ghostlike grace. And as she reached the border, slowly started to turn around. No longer did she stare at some far oblivion, but rather into my face.
"I would." She said. And with a serene smile, she waved at me... and let herself fall.


This story was for a 200 word story contest at my ex-high school. I'm pretty proud to say I won.