Hi everyone. This was inspired by a line in another post, which i have been allowed to borrow. It wasn't what i intended to write exactly, it just kind of happened. I'm not sure about it but i'll wait and see what you think (i might extend it into a longer piece).
As always comments much appreciated!

 I leant over the fencing, allowing my long raven hair to fly wildly about my face, my skirt to billow angrily around my legs, and silent tears to fall hundreds of feet south, towards the stormy waters below.

 I couldn’t bear the pain. My whole body was in knots. I could hardly speak, let alone scream in anguish the way I wanted to so irately. My hands were gripping the iron poles so severely my knuckles appeared translucent. Goose pimples were protruding furiously from my porcelain skin. I bent over further willing myself to be sick, to scream, anything that would let out this pain.

A voice howled in agony from far, far away. It didn’t even sound like me. My soul had detached itself from my physical state. I had been torn apart and left to die, for I could not go on. Not without him.

*******

  The women in our family are what you might call, and what we have certainly been called for generations ‘witches’. This in fact is a mythological term for somebody with alleged supernatural powers. We do not, nor have ever had, powers. We have knowledge about our universe, and we use that knowledge to our means. We live off of the soil, the rocks, the plants, the trees, the flowers, the air and the sky. We use the energy all around us for benevolent purposes only. ‘Spells’ to us are simply prayers. The magic that unfolds in imparting them, well, the explanation for that lies only in our blood.

Tom and I had met right here, right at this very spot. It was the day after my 18th birthday; the day after I wished to fall in love.

Tom was the local blacksmith but never before had I noticed him. He had been coming to the house every few months, or whenever we needed him for years, and I had idly spoken to him, but I had never seen him. That day I was out in the garden planting herbs and picking lavender when he approached. I had never seen a man so beautiful. I had never seen eyes that blue. I lost myself in them in an instant and that was it. My life changed forever.

The years ahead of me were lost and found in a whirlwind of riding on the beach, walking in the countryside, taking trips to the city, eating at fine restaurants, dancing, twirling, singing, painting, writing and being wrapped up in his arms. My wedding day was the happiest of my life. We got married down on the beach, with that big beautiful house on the cliff as our backdrop. That big beautiful and decrepit house that became our home after my Grandma passed away.

Tom’s passion was art. He painted and drew the most breathtaking pictures I have ever seen. I loved the way his eyes glazed over as he sat down to paint, his little wooden stool perching beneath him and his hands moving gracefully and lovingly over the canvas, caressing it as if it were my body. He got that look in his eyes when he looked at me too.

He only fixed horses shoes to keep his head above water. I made a little money too selling the soaps and shampoos that I made, and performing healings on those who trusted me. We were by no means rich, but we got by. We only needed each other. Our lives were full of love and laughter and we were delirious. For a while anyway.

We lost a baby.

And after we buried her beautiful, ashen, wilted little body, Tom completely fell apart. I hadn’t noticed the signs and I scorn myself for that. My mother died giving birth to me and I knew it was all going too smoothly. I said a prayer every night. I sent love to my baby’s pillow. I didn’t notice the roses.

After that Tom began painting indoors. He would lock himself away in a stable for hours at a time. We would still go for our nightly walk on the beach, but we’d hold hands in silence. We’d cling to each other for fear one would fly away and listen to the melancholy songs of the ocean. Gone were the days where he’d chase me into the surf and we’d fall about the sand, our laughter ringing in the night air.

His eyes took on an enduring blank stare. They were glazed, not in enchantment and fervour, but in unbearable pain. Nothing I could do could take that away.
The guilt tore at my insides like a wild animal, for I had inflicted this upon him. Sweet, handsome, tender Tom no longer bore the look of the weathered, jovial local blacksmith. It was like he was dead inside, and his outsides were catching up. His tanned skin growing pallid, his wide smile recoiling, and his eyes turned almost grey.

That day I noticed. I was keeping an earnest eye on everything up to the leaking roof and damaged water pipes. I had come in from picking heather in the garden. I was pinning and planting it everywhere for luck, when the roses caught my eye. My breath strangled in my throat. The roses were dappled black, as though diseased.

Specks of black on the palest petal, forewarns a love will die.

An explosion rocked the house and I whipped my head around in terror. My heart hammering I sprinted towards the stables, muttering desperate prayers under my breath and clutching the flowers to my chest.
The sky was ablaze.
My world reeled around me.
Then everything went black.

*******

  What felt like hours later, I removed my middle from the iron, both now welded tightly together. I pulled up straight, closed my eyes, and breathed deeply. Still holding the bar, for fear my legs wouldn’t hold me, I acknowledged my moment of peace. The air was salty and sweet. Tom had always smelt like the ocean.

My eyes undid themselves delicately and in spite of myself, I smiled at the view before me. The sky was alight with a tantalizing montage of blue, purple and gold. Now was the time.

I bent down and picked up a clay bowl at my feet. Residing inside were rose petals, now tarnished with the mark of death, for they were no longer red, but ghostly white. I lifted them out before me, closed my eyes and thought deeply for my love. I prayed for his peace, and I prayed for mine.

I watched in angst and hope as the petals rose and transformed before me swirling and spiralling upwards and out towards the ocean. The winds stopped screaming. The waves stopped crashing. All became still, and finally, my body responded. My heart broke in two.

Walking slowly back towards the house, and brushing my palm to the candles to light the way, I stopped at the letter box. I knew what was waiting inside. Out slipped a white sheet of paper, and in the soft flickering light, I read.

I felt a sharp pain in my stomach and buckled slightly. Rose petals, now a pale pink began falling to the ground, like large snowflakes, showering me avidly in fragrance. One brushed my cheek and I caught it between my fingers.

Kissing it wetly I knew he would always be with me, as his spirit was everywhere on this cliff and his seed was inside me. Smiling I put my hand to my stomach and I knew, that I would be ok; that I was found too.



* I turned and ran, throwing myself off of the cliff, soaring like a bird towards the rolling waves and caverns below. Into the arms of my love.

: This was an alternate ending i wrote which slipped onto the end of the story. I took it off, but am putting it back up again as i think the end is possibly too predictable and safe?