The wind was hitting the back of my head quite hard. I never realized how strong it could be at this altitude. Regardless it did feel quite wonderful, and I absorbed as much as I could . It had been a long time since I felt so in control. I hugged my arms across my chest, feeling the goose bumps on my skin. I reached down slowly and untied the sweater I had wrapped around my waist. I winced in pain as I did it, my nails were broken and bruised. I don't I think I had ever felt so angry and manic as I had earlier. I had clawed and pulled at my hair and scalp to relieve the insanity I felt, and was left with pain. Not that it mattered. I always felt pain; it seemed endless.

  The view was so beautiful. Endless rows of trees, lakes and fields. Standing 3,000 feet above ground, on the edge of a cliff with the most gorgeous view of nature. Perhaps if I had visited this place before, I could have learned to live with my hate. The tranquility had somehow calmed my emotions, but the sick filth and rage I felt would always claw at my sanity. I looked back at the trail I had walked upon earlier and saw my footprints in the dust. It was the only thing right now that made me feel concrete. Without that, I didn't feel real. No life, no mind, and no actuality. I wondered if this is what euphoria was truly about. The mind displaced from the body feeling only the strongest emotion in my heart: repulsion. I glanced at my watch. 6:44 pm. I had been standing here for 3 hours without realizing it. It felt like minutes. I couldn't remember if I had been standing still the whole time or if I had moved. My thoughts had raced so fast I had lost track of time. A cycle of fear, guilt, blame. I had lived the past 9 years like that and I was used to it. A child's mind can be played with only so much. Then it breaks--hard. And it never, ever comes back.

  But, I wasn't a child anymore. I was 17 and I didn't feel like it. I felt 5 again. A 5 year old girl, trapped in a black shadow that only shows gray on the edges. A small gray area that allowed love to come in, but only until the black engulfed it again. The black was a large part of my insanity, and in time I had learned to accept it, and consider the fact that perhaps I had enticed it. I was taught that I was always wrong, and everything that had ever happened to me, was at my will. A large gust of wind hit my back and I almost lost my balance. If I had I would have tumbled 3,000 feet to the rocks below the cliff. I stepped back a few feet and pulled a package of cigarettes from my pocket. I knew it would be a struggle to light it with all the wind, but I managed. I took large pulls from the cigarette, staring at the lit end as it sparkled red and orange. My life could have been like that. Bright, alive, fulfilling. Instead, it was dark, still and lifeless, like the ashes. I tossed the cigarette away. I couldn't smoke it any longer. I was inhaling a life that I couldn't have. A life like that isn't given to dirty little girls like me.

  I felt another rush of deranged confusion. It happened when I thought too much, and I tried very hard to concentrate on something else. I thought of my little sister, my mother, my dog. But I couldn't hold onto them because they were something I would no longer have. They swirled and disappeared and were replaced with the sick figure of a man. It's the same man that haunts my dreams. He's leaning over me, with fire racing through his eyes. He's got my arms behind my head and I'm struggling to be free. I can't get away, his grasp is too tight and he's telling me everything is going to be alright. It's not, and I know it isn't because I'm being soiled. He's whispering in my ear and I can feel his sweat dripping down my temple to my neck. I can't struggle, it makes it worse, so I lay still. I can smell his reek. It's disgusting and it makes me sick. I can't get away, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do, except take it. When he leaves I can breathe and cry, but I know it's not over because he will always come back again. He always does.

  I don't know how long it took before my head cleared, but when I shook myself back into my surroundings, I was on the ground with my nails in my scalp again. This time I could feel the blood and I was grateful for it. Besides the dusty footprints, this was the only thing that made me feel real again. I walked up to the edge of the cliff again. The smell of the air was beautiful and I felt innocent. I wondered if maybe this is what heaven felt like, if I made it there. Heaven wasn't for dirty little girls like me. I could see little pebbles bouncing off the edge and hitting the protruding rocks below. They looked so happy and free of pain. I wanted to feel like that. I closed my eyes, raised my arms and jumped. A perfect ten. I had only a few seconds of life left before I hit the bottom, and I was filled with joy. It was going to be over. I could see another body at the bottom. I guess i hadn't been standing still that whole time. I had pushed that body over earlier. I was a murderer, but I had pushed a person that I hated. A person that had raped my body, my soul and my childhood right out of me. He was dead and he deserved it.

  I closed my eyes and smiled. "Fuck you Daddy, you'll never hurt me again" I thought and then I was.....gone.

© 1999 Michelle Madill