Page 6 of Dance of Thorns

Not having a clue about what was coming next for either of us.

This is the sixth time I’ve been up here since the last time I came up with her, seven years ago—every year on this cursed anniversary.

I missed one year. But I like to tell myself she’d totally understand why I couldn’t come that once.

In any case, there’ll be noSleepless in Seattlemeet-cute tonight. Just me finally taking the next step, one that I’ve been too chicken-shit to take the last five times I was here.

I exhale slowly, looking past my toes to the street below.

This has been a long time coming.

I close my eyes and think of her, and the night her life ended and mine went to hell.

It wasn’t your fault.

I squeeze my eyes shut so tightly that colored lights explode behind my lids.

Yes, it was.

A shudder ripples through me as a particularly strong gust of wind tears up the side of the building, blowing my hair into crazy pink tangles. My hands close to fists as I steel myself, lifting my head to the sky.

The familiar gnawing sensation pulls dull and empty inside me. The itch. The hunger that’ll always be there, lurking, daring me to cave.

You’re never aformeraddict. You’re one forever. The trick is not to be one thatuses. I guess after tonight, that’s one more thing I won’t have to stress about.

A wry smile twists my lips as I look out at the world, knowing with supreme confidence thatI will never use again.

There’s a lot of things I won’t ever do again.

Some of those I’ll miss—a lot, actually. Ballet, for instance: the one constant in my life that arguably saved me.

The few friends I’ve come to rely on, like crutches.

Painting, my newer artistic release.

My half-sister Chiara…maybe.

I allow myself another smile.

Okay, I’ll miss her too.

That’s it, though.

I inhale shakily, looking out over the city below. Lark used to say the streets looked like airport runways, all lit up to guide a plane as it swooped down from the sky.

That’ll be me soon; swooping down to land. Guided by the lights.

It’s beautiful, in a way. And no, I didn't decide to jump from here for attention, or to make a scene. I picked it because, well, Lark.

She always joked that if she were to do it, it’d be from here.

Honestly, she has a point. It’s beautiful up here. I’ve always loved this city, and one last gorgeous view from high above it all…well, it seems like a nice way to go.

I glance down to my shoes, and the letter tucked inside one of them.

I’m genuinely not sure why I took them off. I mean, I watch a decent amount of anime, and I know in Japanese culture, people always take their shoes off before they jump, so they can enter the afterlife without them. For respect, same as you wouldn’t walk into someone's house wearing them.

But I’m neither Japanese nor religious in any sense.