Cliff of Darkness

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sad romantic short story containing a mild amount of blood and some references to violence. May be interpreted as depressing or hopeless.

Submitted: April 28, 2012

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Submitted: April 28, 2012



Istared at the late evening sun, and pressed my true love's hand harder against my chest. The air was sultry after a day of burning sun, and desert dust hid the view from the densely built slum houses. In my other hand I held tightly in a piece of broken glass. It was burning against the skin, but it was a welcome pain, that subdued the convulsions of my inner wounds.

But my inside was not just sore. It was a mess of tortured limbs and torn body parts. My mind was tormented, as of fire, because of the last few days, nay, hours, of events.

I dreamed my way back to the time when it was just Her and me. I turned longingly into my memories, as from a dark cliff into a lake of light. Just the two of us.


** *


I looked out through the airplane window, and then looked back at my fiancee's amused face.

"Yeah, let's just hope that it wont be like last time," I said, and we both laughed. I was stunned, not for the first time, by my Beloved's beautiful face.

Her green eyes became serious for a moment, and my smile, just like hers, went out.

"Do you really love me?" she suddenly asked me, looking deep into my eyes.

"I would die for you", I managed to say, after a moment of confusion.

"If you're able to die for me... You would probably not be able to live without me," she remarked. "But I want you to continue living even if I ..." She hesitated. "... even if I pass away."

"Nothing will happen to you, darling," I said calmly.

"I have no doubt that you will protect me," she said and kissed my forehead. "I ask only of you to be careful also about yourself," she continued, now only in a whisper.

I saw the concern in her eyes, and said no more, but instead just held her in my arms.


* **


Back in the day, my thoughts were interrupted by a muezzin calling to prayer from a minaret nearby.

I lifted the piece of broken glass I held in my hand, and studied it carefully. It had, like me, got many hard knocks in the recent times, and like my heart, it was completely covered by scratches and other damage. Like with me, it would never be able to fix it, or repair it to its former wealth. Time heals all wounds, it was said. I did not believe it. Not anymore.

Of course, you could start all over again, and make a new sheet of glass. But to make glass you needed heat.

I kissed Her on the mouth, and looked into Her understanding eyes. She was the only one who could ever understand how much I was actually suffering.




The smell of freshly baked bread reached my nose and I looked up. My Beloved, wearing a veil, came to the edge of the bed and sat down, next to me and my mother. I grieved about not being able to see my fiancee's beautiful face, but not much could be done about it while we lived here.

  "My son and daughter, listen carefully," my mother moaned suddenly, as she lay in her bed.

I was surprised that she said anything at all, because she had not uttered a word since we at first came to her, but I leaned toward her, to be able to hear her weak voice more clearly.

  "I'm about to die, my children," she explained, but I interrupted her at once.

  "You will not die, Mom. You'll get by fine through all this," I said, but I did not even believe in myself. She seemed, as always, to be able to read my thoughts, and laughed quietly.

  "You can't prevent it, my boy," she whispered.

Me and my future wife just sat silent, looking into each other's eyes. My mother brought together our hands, and kissed them both.

  "In the name of our God, I wish you happiness and prosperity, and beg you to always stay together. Like the tree needs water to grow, people need love to develop. Hold tight to each other, until the very end. "She put back her head on the pillow, and let go of our hands.

  "Mom, you must not die," I moaned again. My Beloved gently pressed my hand.




My grip around the broken glass piece hardened, and I looked up at the white mosque's spiers and towers with hatred in my eyes. A tear ran down my cheek, but I made no move to wipe it away. What god could do something like this, what power could allow this evil?

I looked towards a burnt and crushed car, and threw the piece of glass against it, with all the strength I had left. It did not fly far.

I raised my arm to hug my beautiful, amazing Darling, and discovered, to my surprise, that my hand was drenched in blood. A small fragment from the piece of glass was stuck in it, and a deep wound was bleeding heavily from my thumb. But that was nothing, compared to my wounds inside.


I had been happy. Had been. Not anymore.


To stand on the last rock, in the land of darkness, with death's ocean in front of one. Being able to throw oneself off, and never have to see the horrible evil of this world again. To be free. Was death the only way to happiness and freedom? For me it was. I remembered clearly Her last words, which troubled my heart.


"Close your eyes, so you may see the light."


It was hard to ignore what a suicide bomber had done. I glanced around me and saw one, two, three, dead bodies. At least two dozen in all. But they were all faceless, empty eyes that did not mean anything to me. It was the burned corpse next to me, that took away my will to live.


My beloved one.

What right did a person have to rob other lives? What was the reason? Even my life had he taken, through the death of Her. Jihad, no way, this was an unholy massacre of innocent people. The racism at home was nothing against this. Home in the West we didn't kill foreigners.

I would see her in heaven, I thought. I hoped so. I whispered so.


I shouted so, with all my lunges.


A puddle had formed on the ground beneath me. A puddle of tears. And of blood. I began to gasp for air and tiredly looked down on the bloody knife in my hand. Now I was on my way.


From the cliff of darkness, from the kingdom of evil.


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