Corrine dove from the cliff, her heart racing. The dirt road down below her welcomed her with wide arms. She was ready to leave right in front of his eyes. She was ready to die. Tolliver watched his hand still in the air for her arm. He wanted to die now. He was too late and she was out of sight. Corrine was silent and still. Her bare limbs shimmered dark gold in the sun. Tolliver became pale. With seconds before the landing, she whispered “I love you, Tolliver. Hello, death.”

Tolliver couldn’t feel his legs. They had buckled to the ground. His body fell back, the sun beaming down on his face. “No!” He yelled, but his words were barely audible and it was completely too late. He heard the thud of her body and the ground. His dark brown hair flowed in the air that smelt of bitter. Tolliver went numb. Tolliver didn’t know where to begin. Corrine chose death and not him. Tolliver chose her and not the gun. He looked over at the gun. It laid shimmering sleek black.

Two hours later, and the sun began to set. Tolliver could feel the cool breeze and could see the stars. He could feel Corrine’s absence. But she spoke. “Tolliver, I’m not dead. Are you there?”

“Yes,” Tolliver spoke, but he still hadn’t moved.

“Tolliver, I need help.” Corrine yelled.

“Why? Is anything broken?”

“Yes, my whole body is.” She yelled fragilely.

“Well, why don’t you just stay there? Maybe you’ll die of hungry. Maybe, you’ll die of pain.” His voice was low, but audible to Corrine. “I hate you, so die.” He got up and climbed into his truck.