She was standing on the cliff, looking over into the great expanse below.
The wind lifted her hair from her shoulders and it waved in front of her, whipping in her face and she squinted against it.
Jump.
The girl shook her head. It was so far down, and no one ever came back. It was said that there were remnants of the old life on the other side, but it was impossible to tell.
The clouds below swirled, and the girl took a step back. Some of the clouds looked thick enough to hold her, but none were. There was no in-between ground, only here and there, that great unknown expanse of the world. The new world. The unknown.
She remembered Elaina, her dark-haired friend who had jumped a week ago. She had asked the girl to go with her, to see her off, and perhaps come too.
“You’re old enough, Miriam. Most of our friends have already gone.”
“I know,” she’d said. “I’m coming soon.”
Elaina had smiled. “I’ll look for you.”
Then she jumped.
No hesitation, no fear, no anxiety in her eyes. She’d leapt off the edge, hair flaring out behind her and smiling at whatever awaited her. Miriam had leaned forward, watching her as long as she could. She could hear Elaina laughing for a long time, and even after she was long out of sight, Miriam could still hear her laughter in her mind, still see her anticipation.
How could she so love the unknown? Nothing was certain after you jumped. For what anyone atop the cliff knew there could be piles and piles of dead bodies at the bottom, all rotting in their broken dreams and the lies of the living.
Another breeze, stronger, rushed around her, and Miriam crossed her arms over her chest. Night was coming. The clouds were turning from their vibrant pinks and reds to deep purples and blues, and Miriam remembered when her brother had jumped.
It had been at a sunset much like this one. He had been hesitant at first, and hadn’t leapt as Elaina had. He had hugged everyone, then stood at the edge for a long moment. He took in a long, deep breath, shut his eyes, and stepped off.
Everyone had leaned over, watching his descent. Miriam’s last glimpse of her brother had been of him plunging downward, his arms outstretched to greet whatever Destiny had in mind.
But Destiny was not always kind.
“You have to trust,” Elaina had said. “Just because we don’t know what Destiny has planned for us doesn’t mean we don’t have to comply. He is benevolent, Miri. We don’t have to be afraid.”
Her brother, Michael, had said much the same before he’d jumped.
“Aren’t you afraid?” Miriam had asked him, clasping one of her brother’s hands in both of her own.
“Yes,” Michael had said. “But it’s okay to be scared.”
Miriam shook her head. “We shouldn’t be afraid of what we have to do. Everyone does it. Everyone has to do it.”
“Destiny’s plans aren’t always easy,” Michael said. “But His are always the best plans. You remember Stuart, right?”
“Everyone remembers Stuart.”
He was the only person Miriam had ever heard of who refused to jump. There had been a scandal at his death bed; his friends had begged him to let them take him to the cliff, to finally cross over, but he had refused. They said he died miserable, gasping with his last breaths that he should have jumped. They released his body off the side of the cliff, but everyone knew it wasn’t the same.
You were a coward if you didn’t fling yourself off the edge and fall endlessly into the clouds.
“He should have jumped,” said Michael. “Everyone knew it. Even he knew it in the end.”
“What if you’re pushed?”
“Same destination,” Michael said, squeezing her hands gently. “But the willingness to take the journey isn’t there and that only makes what’s waiting harder.”
“How do you know so much about it?”
“I don’t. I feel it. I trust Destiny.”
“I don’t know how.”
“You’ll learn. You still have time.”
But Miriam’s time was up. She had seen eighteen winters and had reached the edge of maturity: it was her turn to stand above those clouds that seemed to extend into eternity and step off solid ground and into the air.
She sank to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest. The first stars were appearing in the sky, and the clouds had turned dark. The clouds looked more solid at night, but more menacing as well. The wind moved again, and Miriam swayed where she sat.
Let go.
She shut her eyes. It was so far down.
Don’t be afraid.
There was no way of knowing what happened after you stepped off. Anything could be waiting, anything at all.
Destiny loves you.
That didn’t matter.
Fear will destroy you.
Miriam clenched her hands and opened her eyes. The dizzying expanse lay before her, and she wanted to cry. She wanted to stay here forever.
Complacency will lead to unhappiness.
She laid down on her side, resting her head against her forearms and feeling the cool, hard earth beneath her. It was solid. Safe.
Safety is an illusion.
Miriam closed her eyes again, and the wind whisked across her cheek. It was a southern wind, blowing her closer to home, rather than away.
There is nothing for you here.
She shifted to make herself more comfortable. She couldn’t leave. This was all she’d ever known. Down there could mean pain, even death. She was happy here.
You don’t belong here anymore.
She didn’t belong there either, where you had to leave the earth to find life. She began to drift into sleep.
Let go.
The wind whispered around her, and for a time, Miriam slept. The sand and the wind moved on. Somewhere, an owl hooted, and its call echoed into the haunting blackness of the night. Hours later, the stars began to fade as the sky lightened.
When Miriam woke, her head ached. She pushed herself up and realized with a jolt that she was nearer to the edge than when she’d fallen asleep. She scrambled backward, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.
She released her breath as she rose, crossing her arms tightly to insulate the warmth of her body against the coolness of the morning.
Jump.
The whisper came again, that little urging she’d been hearing for weeks. Miriam shook her head. It was too far, too cold, too silent.
It’s time.
She took a step closer to the edge, her eyes straining to see as far down as she could. The clouds were infinite.
Don’t be afraid.
The sky was beginning to lighten again, and the clouds below her feet were changing color in preparation for the day.
It’s a new day.
Miriam rubbed her arms and inched closer.
This is what you’ve been looking for.
She uncrossed her arms, looking out over the lights as they touched on the sky in vibrant pinks and reds and oranges and gold. The clouds were waiting like fire, ready to swallow her the moment she stepped off the security of the ground beneath her feet, yet the wind urged her forward.
This is what Destiny has intended for you.
Miriam closed her eyes.
You can’t stay here.
She stretched out her arms as the wind rushed at her from behind.
You’re ready to fly.
She opened her eyes again. The sun was creeping above the horizon, its light spilling over into the clouds and warming her face.
Trust.
Miriam smiled, and stepped off the cliff.
Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed it. 
