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At The Edge Of The Cliff | Short Story by Omemu Moyo Esther


She stood by the river bank, her tears dripping down in tiny droplets, today marked the fourth anniversary and though that long time had passed, the pain hadn’t. It was a very agonizing struggle to wake up this morning and live the day. On many occasions she had fought the urge to go back under her white covers and sleep till the next day so it would all roll over without her noticing but life didn’t work that way and according to her therapist she had to face it heads on to get better. No matter how hard she tried to avoid it and push it aside, it would still come back so why bother. She continued trailing the path of the familiar road she had come to love and hate as well. The place was a hallmark of great memories, one that made her smile and cry, and to be honest, she had cried more. Inhaling the cool breeze, she sucked in her tears and tried to focus on the good memories of this place and really tried to act as happy as he would have wanted her to be…note, the objective word being tried because in the end she fell on her knees and just wept, crying for everything. 

For him, for her loss, for her family, for his, for her problems and for the first time in many years, for herself. 

Once her tear gland had dried up, she stood up and walked to the set of broken blocks that sat on the abandoned construction site. The one thing that used to serve as a getaway for both of them when reality got too harsh. She remembered how they would both come here and sit atop the rock, wishing for a life of their fantasies. They would make up things they knew may never come to pass, like the one time she wished they for 24/7 electricity. Sitting there was purgatory for them, a means to forget reality. 

Life was not fair and she knew it, she had always known. Her life had never been a bed of roses and unlike many of her peers, she didn’t have the luxury to believe in picture perfect family with a house of gold. She was used to the intricacies of life and had suffered through dark side of life numerous times yet none of those experiences could have prepared her enough for her loss. 

It came without warning or foretell and till now, it felt like she was still under her duvet having a nightmare. Life should have given her more time so at least she could ease slowly into this painful reality.

He had been her forever, the one person she had convinced herself would never leave but no, nothing good lasts forever. No one in her life stayed, not even the ones she had dared to call family yet she basked in the delusion that maybe this one was different. Life created an illusion that her happiness was here to stay. 

Fate, that bastard, he had written another script for her and made her the lead. Just when she thought it was for real, she was greeted one afternoon by sad looking officers with a familiar wallet and a ring. 

For many days, she wanted it to be a nightmare, he was still alive and she was just insecure but every time she picked up the phone and called the bald head man who had taken him, the story was the same and his words too…Sarah, move on with your life. 

First week, she couldn’t believe it…she didn’t see his body, how was she to accept his death and move, there had to be a mistake. Four years later, there was no mistake…he was gone!
She didn’t know her legs was moving until she felt herself at the edge of a cliff, faced between a massive pool of water and dry land, how had she walked that far?

She looked back and saw the blocks at the distance faraway. Her whole life was behind her in a distance. She stopped to think about it, what was there, was anything there waiting for her? 
She was standing between two worlds, one that included her a sad reminder of all she had lost and the other, a break from her sorrows. 

She paused, trying to decide. If she turned back, she was going to be returning to her sad and lonely life, where waking up was like salt on opened wounds…a life where he no longer was part of and the other world…freedom, what would a sane person choose?

Freedom over pain…

She weighed her options, tears running down her cheeks. It was hurting, he would have wanted her to live and find happiness. 

I am so sorry, Dayo 

As she stood there contemplating, her phone began to ring, playing a familiar tune.

Mr. Nnamdi

She sighed, he was probably calling to reply her with the usual message, He is dead and gone Sarah, you have to stop calling. A mix of pain and anger bubbled up within her. She looked at the phone one last time before flinging it.

Why was she even hesitating, the decision was clear, 
GOODBYE LIFE, she said as she jumped.

She had barely reached down when a message chimed on her already broken phone….
Sarah, we just found him, HE IS ALIVE!


Omemu Moyo Esther, a 400 level student of Mass communication and an ardent fan of psychology. Humans beings are the most interesting things on earth yet the most disturbing and that's the beauty of writing a book for me. The feeling i get as i try to figuring out the mind of my characters and divide me into varied personalities to tell their story better is a feeling like no other