Wind blew strong, knocking all loose stones from the cliff edge. Diving from the dark clouds, rain fought through the forceful push of the angry wind, cutting off small chunks of rock with every other hit. Birds had fled the scene, the wind having shoved them in mad directions. The wracking cough of the waves on the sharp rocks 100ft below, made the white foam collapse on the shore, sinking into the sand. Using the rocks as a springboard, he destructive waves leaped towards tiny ledges that dotted the cliff's face.
I stood on the edge of the tower of crumbling rock. I could feel the frown fall lower as I looked out over the edge. My blonde hair whipped the tears from my eyes and released them into the wind. The smell of salt rose from the sea hand in hand with the damp atmosphere that spelled despair for me. Trying to hide my tears, I was betrayed by the makeup that ran to the rocks below for safety.
I heard footsteps behind me but I decided to ignore them. If someone wanted to push me, so be it. I was going to let them. The gale blew harder, pushing me back, away from the cliff's edge. I stood strong against the powerful winds, reaching out towards the rocketing waves. As my index finger weakly rose, my hand following, I felt a light sting on my nose. A bee. The fuzzy yellow and black body floated past my eyes. My hand moved from the reaching position it had taken to earlier. Both of my pale hands came to rest at my side. Buzzing. I heard it then; a low rumble that slowly grew. Louder, louder and louder still.
Growing even louder, the noise made it to my messed up mind. Waking from my sleep-like state, I noticed my right foot in the air, hovering above the drop. I froze. My foot slowly lowered itself.
Hearing the shouts for the first time, I turned to face the one that was all too familiar. The desperation in his eyes was clear and it was at that moment when the realisation sank in fully; I had once felt the same desperation. I could feel the thoughts racing through his head as they had done for me.
Sinking to my knees, I burst out crying. From then on was mostly blurred. I could hear the crunch of rocks getting louder as he got closer. I could feel the heavy breath on my neck as he crouched beside me. I could smell the BO that the fear had created in both of us.
My thoughts swam through my brain in a panicked motion, like fish attempting to escape a net. Nothing made sense. Nothing but the memory. The memory that occurred weekly ever since.
She had stood there; at the edge of the cliff, this very spot. She had leaned over, willing her mind to let her fall. I had stepped forward then, reaching out to help my friend. Molly. That was her name. Lifting her foot, her brain was slowly accepting her command. As I ran towards her, arm outstretched, the salty taste of despair filled my mouth and everything around me.
I had tried to stop myself but I couldn't. Looking over the edge, I spotted Molly floating lifelessly in the angry waves; a pool of blood swam with her.
   I had failed.
   I couldn't let her brother fail too. I wouldn't jump. I couldn't. I walked towards him. His weak, fear-stained smile showed my success. I had overcome the mountain of guilt I'd been climbing ever since that day. I walked away from it, but the memory was there. And I had created another mountain of memory.
   Neither of them will ever disappear, but I never have to re-climb them. That's something I had learnt from my return to the trauma. From then on I have never lived on a mountain of grief and guilt.