a life worth living

THANK YOU CANTTINA!

As she fought her internal battle between literal life and death, a stranger would approach. He went unnoticed, the female being too engrossed in her suicide attempt to acknowledge anything but. It was his voice that would break her concentration and cause her to glance up from the drop without turning to look at him.



His choice of words actually caused Liste to utter a melancholy chuckle. How ironic that he would choose to acknowledge the beauty of her face before seeing it. Her face was the only beautiful thing she had left, her father had seen to that. The devil had reminded her again and again that it was the only part of her worth keeping free of scars and bruises. The ebony female took a small step backward and turned to face the new arrival, her golden eyes drained and dull.



I'm not sure anyone in my position on the ledge would intend to do anything but jump. What brings you to a place of such doom, stranger?

talk, think