I sit near the edge of the cliff, and feel the warm breeze against my face. I move my legs freely, and I remove the thought of falling. That's because I can't fall.

I have lived near the edge for 14 years, and I have no fear of running till it. I trust the canyon. Yes, we live in a canyon.
Actually, the Grand Canyon.

My name is Felicia Broche, and I am 14 years old. I am the daughter of the richest man in the country, but he's not the president. My father used to tell me that our family actually came from Alaska, but we moved because of problems.

And till now, I haven't heard of these 'problems' even once. Father says it doesn't matter. But I think it does.

When I was 4 years old, I was too afraid of the edge. TOO afraid. But when I saw my father sit there every day, I joined him. When he left, I also left. I never went to the edge alone.

But as I grew up, I began to trust the canyon and by the age of 7, I sat there every morning after breakfast. Birds sit beside me, but like my father, when I left, they also left.

It's also beautiful to sit at the edge at night, when the high moon grazed the black sky, and the tidal waves growing bigger every minute. So, when I turned 14, I sit there in the morning and in the night.

When I move my legs, few bits of rock break and fall down. I gaze down at them, watching as they collide with other rocks and finally into the water. I'm never tired of sitting. It's not that I enjoy the view, because I get tired of watching the same scenery every day, this edge is packed with memories. Scared, then confident. Trapped, then free. Beginning, then endless.

My hair whips against the wind, and I wrap my arms around myself.

'Felicia! Come inside!'

'Father, it's only 4' O clock!'

'Feila, a storm will be coming any minute! You'll catch hypothermia! And why do I have to tell you this every day??'

'Hypo...?? Oh yeah whatever.'

Father has this habit of scaring me that I'll catch 'hypothermia' after 5' O clock. He asks this question every day, and I answer back the same reply every day. I look back at my house, then the canyon, and shout back, 'Okay! I'll be there in a minute!'

'A MINUTE not a hour!'

'I said minute, not hour!'

'No you didn't!'

'Father, I remember what I say, okay? In a minute!'

'But you said.... Fine! Minute it is!'

I hold back a laugh. Father is really humorous at times.

Although a minute doesn't pass, I get up and start to go to the house, my arms still wrapped around myself.

There you go guys! My first chapter!

Vote, comment, and enjoy!

Luv ya all! <3