She stood staring at it. The giant hole she had created. The void of nothingness. She had done well, if well is what you could call this creation. A hole of emptiness created over days, weeks, months, years, and even, she guessed decades. She both hated and loved her creation. It was both beautiful and grotesque. It was hers, and hers alone, to be shared with no other.
She stood staring at it. She debated jumping in. She teetered on the edge. Oh, she knew she could reach back and there would be a willing hand to hold her. She knew this very well and she was more than grateful. It wasn’t so much in the accepting the hand that was her problem, but more in the reaching, it always seemed to pain her. It had always been the most painful exercise; to reach.
She stood, staring at her creation. Her eyes brimming with tears. She wanted to jump in, she felt the darkness would take her quickly. She wanted to drown in the void. The pull from within was so strong and she was so weak. She trembled as the tears flowed freely.
She leaned forward, ready for the dive. Yet, she could feel the reach, reaching for her.