The rain fell in relentless sheets, a cold, unyielding torrent that soaked through the fabric of his hoodie and clung to his skin like a second layer of despair. The city below was a blur of muted lights, distorted by the downpour and the tears that refused to stop streaming down his face. He stood on the edge of the rooftop, his sneakers scuffing against the gravel as he shifted his weight nervously. The wind howled around him, tugging at his clothes and hair, as if nature itself were trying to pull him back from the brink. But he was beyond listening. Beyond caring.
His name was Adrian—or at least, it had been. Now, it felt like a meaningless label, a hollow sound that carried no weight, no identity. He was seventeen, though the number felt arbitrary, like a countdown to a moment that had always been inevitable. He had spent the last few years of his life feeling like a ghost, drifting through the motions of existence without ever truly living. School, family, friends—it all felt like a play he had been forced to act in, reciting lines he didn't believe in and wearing masks that never fit. He was tired. So, so tired.
The rooftop was his sanctuary, the one place where he could escape the suffocating expectations of the world below. He had come here often over the past year, drawn by the quiet and the height, the way it made everything else seem small and insignificant. But tonight was different. Tonight, he wasn't here to escape. He was here to end it.
His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the railing, the cold metal biting into his palms. He stared down at the street far below, the cars and pedestrians reduced to tiny, insignificant specks. The thought of jumping made his stomach churn, a primal fear clawing at the edges of his mind. But it was nothing compared to the crushing weight of the emptiness inside him, the void that had been growing for as long as he could remember.
He thought about his parents—kind, well-meaning people who had never understood him. They loved him, he knew that, but their love felt like a cage, a set of expectations he could never live up to. He thought about his friends, the ones who had drifted away over the years, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He thought about the future, the endless stretch of time that seemed to promise nothing but more of the same: more emptiness, more pain, more pretending.
"Why?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. It was a question he had asked himself a thousand times, but the answer always eluded him. Why did he feel this way? Why couldn't he just be normal, like everyone else? Why did it have to hurt so much?
He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, but the tears kept coming, hot and relentless. He felt like he was drowning, suffocating under the weight of his own thoughts. He wanted it to stop. He needed it to stop.
With a shaky breath, he climbed onto the railing, his heart pounding in his chest. The wind was stronger now, whipping around him as if trying to knock him off balance. He stood there for a moment, teetering on the edge, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts and fears. But beneath it all was a strange, almost peaceful certainty. This was it. This was the end.
He took one last look at the world below, the city lights blurred by the rain and his tears. Then, with a quiet sob, he let go.
The fall was faster than he had imagined, a dizzying rush of wind and noise that seemed to stretch on forever. He felt a moment of pure, unadulterated terror, a primal scream building in his chest. But then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over.
There was no pain. No impact. Just darkness.
Kaelith opened her eyes.
At first, there was only confusion. Her vision was blurry, the world around her a haze of muted colors and indistinct shapes. She felt small, impossibly small, her limbs weak and uncoordinated. She tried to move, but her body didn't respond the way she expected. Panic bubbled up inside her, but it was quickly soothed by a warm, comforting presence.
A soft hum filled the air, a gentle melody that wrapped around her like a blanket. She turned her head—or tried to—toward the sound, her blurry vision catching the outline of a woman's face. The woman was smiling, her features soft and radiant, her eyes filled with a warmth that made Kaelith's chest ache in a way she couldn't quite understand.
"Shh, my little one," the woman murmured, her voice like a lullaby. "You're safe now. Mama's here."
Mama. The word echoed in Kaelith's mind, unfamiliar yet comforting. She wanted to reach out, to cling to this woman who felt like safety and love personified, but her tiny arms barely moved, her fingers curling into weak fists. She let out a soft sound, a gurgling coo that surprised her. The woman laughed, a sound so light and joyful that it made Kaelith's heart swell.
"Oh, you're going to be a handful, aren't you?" the woman said, her voice tinged with amusement. "Just like your sister."
Sister? Kaelith's mind raced, though her thoughts felt sluggish, weighed down by the limitations of her newborn body. Before she could process the word, another sound reached her ears—a high-pitched, delighted squeal. She turned her head—or tried to—and saw another blurry shape beside the woman. A tiny face, round and soft, with bright blue eyes that sparkled with curiosity and joy.
The baby—her sister—reached out with tiny, chubby hands, her fingers brushing against Kaelith's cheek. The touch was warm and gentle, and something inside Kaelith shifted. This was her sister. Her twin. The realization settled over her like a warm blanket, soothing the lingering panic in her chest.
The woman—her mother—gently adjusted Kaelith in her arms, cradling her close. "This is Elara," she said softly, her voice filled with love. "Your sister. You two are going to do amazing things together. I just know it."
Kaelith stared at Elara, her blurry vision slowly sharpening. Elara was grinning, her tiny hands waving excitedly as she babbled in a language only babies could understand. There was something about her—something bright and pure—that made Kaelith feel… safe. Like she had finally found something worth holding onto.
For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of emptiness was gone. In its place was a spark of something new, something warm and unyielding. A reason to keep going. A reason to fight.
Kaelith let out a soft coo, her tiny fingers brushing against Elara's. Her sister giggled, the sound so pure and innocent that it made Kaelith's chest ache in a different way. This was her second chance. A new life. A new beginning.
As she drifted off to sleep, lulled by the sound of her mother's heartbeat and her sister's soft giggles.
The darkness that had once consumed her was gone. In its place was a light, bright and unyielding. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Kaelith felt at peace.