The halls of Whitewater Charter School were eerily quiet, the kind of silence that lingered long after the last bell rang. Shadows stretched across the polished floors, cast by the dim glow of flickering fluorescent lights. The faint hum of electricity filled the air, broken only by the distant creak of a door or the occasional shuffle of unseen footsteps. Most students and teachers had already left for the day, leaving the building to echo with its own emptiness.
In this cruel world, it would seem that God truly does have favourites... The bitter thought echoed in Ivy Reyna's mind, unspoken but heavy. Her steps were slow and deliberate as she made her way down the deserted hallway. Her face remained hidden behind a curtain of messy, dirty blonde hair, her school blazer hanging loose over a jacket.
But why? Is it out of pity? Frustration...? Or does God find our suffering enjoyable?
Her bare feet padded softly against the cold floor, leaving faint imprints of moisture that quickly disappeared. Ivy's hands twitched at her sides, her nails chewed down to the point of rawness. Her thoughts spiralled, a relentless chorus of anguish.
After everything—every failed attempt to end it all—they just won't let me go. They keep me alive, but why? Can't they see how much I'm begging, screaming in silence for it to stop? I never wanted this 'gift,' I never even asked for it. Or is it too late now, too much of a mess to fix?
The stairwell loomed ahead, a steel door partially ajar, its paint chipped and peeling. She ascended, each step punctuated by the low creak of the stairs beneath her weight. The air grew colder, heavier, as if the building itself knew where she was heading. Her breaths came in sharp bursts, visible now in the freezing air.
Will this suffering never end?! M-maybe just one last attempt will finally break me from this curse… She sniffed, her fingers picking at her nails until they bled, desperate, yet determined. One last time...Please...please just let it be one final time!
At the top of the stairs, she reached the door to the rooftop, its rusted padlock glinting faintly. With a swift, almost inhuman kick, the lock shattered, and the door swung open with a groan. A gust of icy wind swept past her, ruffling her hair and carrying with it the faint scent of rain. She stepped onto the rooftop of her charter school, the sprawling city below unfolding like a tapestry, with the school grounds and affluent residential streets bathed in a mix of light and shadow.
⋯
In another part of the school, a lone student was still packing her belongings. Her movements were unhurried but purposeful, her tired eyes scanning the room one last time before she slung her bag over her shoulder. As she walked down the hallway, she glanced out the window, her gaze fixing onto the faint silhouette of someone standing on the rooftop.
Her breath hitched. The bag slid from her shoulder, thudding softly onto the floor. Panic seized her as she bolted down the hall, her shoes squeaking against the tiles. She took the stairs two at a time, the cold air biting at her skin as she neared the top. The rooftop door was ajar, swaying slightly in the wind. She pushed it open, her heart pounding. There, standing on the edge of the rooftop, was Ivy. The door creaked loudly as the girl pushed it open further, her faint footsteps tapping against the concrete floor and catching Ivy's attention.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Ivy's voice was sharp, a forced bravado masking her vulnerability. She didn't turn to face the girl, her focus fixed on the void below. "Come to spectate? Or maybe you're just here to waste my time."
The girl—Arleigh—stepped forward, her expression calm, almost unreadable. "Ouch…that was harsh. But I guess I could ask you the same thing," she said, her tone light but with an edge of curiosity. "Standing on the edge like that... it's not exactly subtle, you know."
"Leave." Ivy's hands gripped the railing tightly, her knuckles whitening. "Whatever you want, I'm not interested."
Arleigh didn't move. Instead, she tilted her head, studying Ivy with an almost clinical detachment. "It's been a while since we talked, hasn't it? I mean, properly talked. Not the whole glaring-from-a-distance thing you've been doing."
"I said leave." Ivy's voice wavered, a crack forming in her usual resolve. "I don't need you here."
"You don't need me?" Arleigh repeated, a faint, amused smile tugging at her lips. "That's funny—because from where I'm standing, it looks like you could use someone right about now."
"Shut up!" Ivy snapped, as she finally spun around to face her. Her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, a storm of fury and anguish etched across her face. "Don't you dare act like you care—not after everything you've done."
The words seemed to hit their mark, but Arleigh didn't flinch. Instead, her gaze softened, and she took a careful step closer. "Ivy... I know I've made mistakes. But I'm here now. Isn't that what matters?"
"Mistakes?" Ivy let out a bitter, hollow laugh. "You didn't just make mistakes, Arleigh—you betrayed me. Again and again. And now you think you can just show up and play the hero?"
"I'm not trying to play anything," Arleigh said, her voice steady but quiet. "I just... I saw you up here, and I thought maybe..." She trailed off, her words hanging in the cold air.
Ivy's shoulders trembled, her grip on the concrete railing loosening. "You thought what? That you could fix me? That I'd just forgive you?"
"No," Arleigh admitted, her tone earnest. "I just thought you shouldn't be alone right now."
The sincerity in her words made Ivy falter, but only for a moment. Her lips quickly curled into a scornful smile. "Well, congratulations. You've done your good deed. Now get lost."
"Ivy..." Arleigh took another step forward, her voice lowering. "Please…You don't have to do this."
Ivy turned away, her gaze fixed on the hard floor below. "You don't understand. You never did."
"Then help me understand."
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Ivy's hands trembled as she gripped the railing once more, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm tired, Arleigh. So fucking tired…I'm done."
"Then let me help," Arleigh said, her tone soft but insistent.
"We can figure this out. Together."
Ivy shook her head, a scoff escaping her lips. "Together? Yeah, right. I'm not falling for your bullshit again."
Before Arleigh could respond, Ivy propped herself up and onto the railing, her movements quick and deliberate. Arleigh's breath hitched, her eyes widening. "Ivy, wait—"
Ivy turned to face her, a faint, hollow smile on her lips. "Goodbye, Arleigh." And then within moments...she fell.
⋯
The wind rushed past her, a deafening roar that drowned out everything else. For a moment, there was nothing but the sensation of falling, the world blurring around her. And then—impact.
The ground rose up to meet her, the force of the collision reverberating through her body. She landed partially on the paved path, her spine striking the unforgiving surface, and partially on the soft earth of a garden bed. The crunch of bones echoed in her ears, her body folding unnaturally as she came to a halt among crushed shrubs and scattered petals.
For a brief, surreal moment, there was no pain. Her vision swam, the world a haze of shifting colors and shadows. She tried to move, but her limbs refused to respond, her shattered spine severing all connection to her nerves. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, the air thick with the scent of soil and crushed flowers.
Not yet... she thought bitterly, her mind struggling to process what had just happened. It's not over yet.
As her spine began to heal, a sharp, searing pain spread through her body like wildfire. Her vision darkened, her teeth grinding together as she tried and failed to suppress a scream. The agony was overwhelming, each nerve igniting in excruciating waves as her broken body slowly knit itself back together.
Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision as her expression twisted in raw agony. "Damn you," she choked out, her voice barely a rasp. "Damn you to hell..."
Her hands scraped at the ground, fingers digging into the dirt, the earth grating against her raw nails. She cursed the heavens, cursed the unyielding forces that shackled her to this endless torment. "Why?" she whispered, her voice cracking like shattered glass. "Why can't you just let me die?"
The pain grew unbearable, her body convulsing as her vision tunneled. The last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was the faint glimmer of stars overhead, cold and indifferent. And then, mercifully, oblivion.