This one is for the short story contest belonging to YoursTrulyMaryZ (finally it lets me tag someone!) I hope it's alright. Xx

Drafts were breezing in over the ocean, stirring up the waters below. Clouds of greys and white were rolling in fast, threatening to splutter rain. The cliff she stood on was dancing with life; the trees behind her were waltzing in the breeze, and the tall grass in front was knotted and tangled like hair. Each strand was different, thriving in a chartreuse or juniper shade.

The waves were tranquil - at least for now. Foam lapped against the ankles of the cliff, as though trying to knock it down, though failing from the lack of power.

But the peacefulness wasn't set to last; distant thunder could be heard. The metallic smell of lightning was electrocuting her nose, covering the sweet smell of the salty sea. Tamra Byrnes stood, agitated from the lack of response, facing out to sea. She had tried calling him several times, yet each call led straight to answer phone.

The eighteen year old girl tucked a stray strand of ash blond hair behind her ear, as she squinted through her binoculars, trying to decipher the silhouette of her brother's boat through the oncoming fog. Nervousness was gripping her heart like the icy fingers of dizziness that would capture a drunk.

"Where the hell has he gone?" She muttered incoherent curses as the second roll of thunder clapped overhead.

Fifth time lucky - dead end. Tamra angrily shoved her phone back into the pocket of her onyx black sateen jacket. Binoculars hung limp around her neck.

As the rain started pouring, she knew she should find someway back down to the dock, though she also knew that as soon as she left the boulder she was perched atop, she would lose any advantage of catching Martin's attention if he were to sail past; the lighthouse was broken, so, as of now, she was the bay's human siren. Not that she could wail that loud - she wasn't sure how she would alert any approaching boat, if there was one.

Drop after drop, pins of ice and fire dug into her back, driving it into numbness, despite the five layers of clothing she was wearing. She took a step forward, worry grasping her heart.

"Martin!" She screamed, but the wind scattered her voice like leaves in the autumn. "Martin!"

She peered over the edge of the cliff, keeping a safe distance from the slippy drop. Her fingers were going insensate but she needed to get closer to see whether he had anchored at his berth. Taking then releasing a deep breath, Tamra held onto a sturdy chunk of the cliff and lent, as far as she dared.

And that's when it happened; a gust hit her at the speed of a train, knocking the air out of her, and pushing her over the edge. A scream was torn from her throat, piercing through the storm like a knife. With her free hands, she grabbed the edge of the cliff, but due to her lack of arm muscles, she was left clinging onto life with a finger. And that's when she fell...

...someone grabbed onto her arm, digging their nails into her forearm, as she slammed her cranium against the boulders. Darkness clouded over her eyes, and the only noise she could hear was the high pitched ringing in her ears. Her head lolled against her neck as she tried to steady her breathing. Something cold and wet ran down her neck; she was almost certain it was blood, yet she didn't dare think about it.

A voice was cutting through the silence - blurred and incoherent, but at least she could hear it.  The yanking on her arm increased, and she realised that whoever it was was trying to get her to safety. She swallowed the fear swimming in her gut as she tried to turn to face the cliff, in order to find a foot hole, without tearing herself out of her rescuer's grip.

Finally managing to grab the face, her helper managed to schlep her to the surface of the rocks. She didn't realise she was crying until a tanned hand wiped away the tears. Something warm and comfortable was wrapped around her shoulders, along with what she could decipher as an arm.

Sniffling, Tamra tilted her head, as her vision cleared, to see a mop of messy brown hair, and concerned blue eyes staring back at her.

"Martin?" She mumbled.

"What were you thinking?" Her brother exploded, adding pressure to the cut on the back of her head, not looking at her directly in the eye.

Tamra rested her head on his shoulder, still trying to restore her breath. "I'm sorry."

Martin just nodded his head, reaching into her pocket and taking her phone. She didn't protest. With his arm still around her shoulder, he stood up, supporting most of her weight.

"Don't tell mum," Tamra whispered, as she hobbled with Martin back to his car