To Fall from Grace

Sin

†   †   †

"What's the point?

They don't want you

They hate you,

you hate them

Chaos erupts between you and 'em

You fight back,

or try to hold back,

But instead, anger crushes you.

Fucks you up, abandons you

You find yourself with a knife,

trying to kill a life

C'mon, stay with me

We'll go back to the hell

you've been summoned

from."

-n

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Madison watched the dark cars zooming and the microscopic people strolling past below. The surrounding from high up a building rooftop seemed tiny—miniscule even, like ants crawling along in the dust—compared to everything she could see in scale. It was funny how it looked like one little flick could squash the whole lot alive.

She peered at the blinking lights of towers and of the buildings that lit up the hole city. The streetlights were nothing but fireflies on standby, bathing the dark surroundings in small pathetic glows. Moths were the silhouettes of humans attaching themselves to the poles, as if it were their life sources, souls afraid of the dark. Madison wanted to laugh at the people for being so weak, only to remember that she also once feared the loss of light. The memory brushed away the smile painted in her face, replacing it with a contracted scowl.

Weak. The word slid through her mind, a tantalizing ribbon twisting itself elegantly as if drawn up by a breeze. She is weak. Pathetic, like those people she had been mocking. Afraid and stupid, a mere human. The humanity in her had not vanished at all. It stayed at the back of her ungodly heart, quietly reigning the whole time. Somehow, the thought that slipped into her mind gave her strength. Lighting up her insides, it filled her with courage.

It sealed her up with sin.

The wind felt like cold silk wrapping around her as it stirred, enveloping her in its arms and protecting her as she rose graciously, approaching the ledge that would her to her death with light yet steady strides. She edged further, dragging the soles of her feet across the grainy asphalt of the building rooftop until she was left with just her heels loosely digging into the floor. Madison could already feel the cold draft clawing at her toes, itching for her. One wrong move; the simple transfer of her weight forward, and she would fall off the nine-story building.

But it was exactly what she wanted. Exactly what she needed to happen.

The car horns blowing below were music—siren songs that were inviting her to fall in their grace. It reached her ears: their melodies were majestic tunes that harmonized just for her to give in to their hypnotism. It was alluring; Madison could almost feel herself being pulled into their spells like a marionette pried forward by the strings.

She took a deep breath and looked down to the ground that was crying out for her. Her smile wasn’t forced this time; it came out as naturally as it did when she met the being that gave meaning to her existence. And to be honest, her smile . . . it felt different. It looked different.

Madison's grin was as evil as her being itself.

Her shallow breathing increased rapidly as she sneered at the abyss that seemed to be cheering her on with eager. She felt exhilarated at the illusion of her mangled body. Dead; nothing more. The cold wind rushed to meet her when Madison fastened her lashes shut, her fingers tingling with readiness as she tilted her feeble husk forward.

Fall, the wind seemed to howl at her. Come into our arms.

The icy breeze whipped harder.

FALL!

"Stop!"

The voice was deep; sudden and startling, coming from the shadows behind her. It interrupted Madison’s fantasy as the voice chased away all the exhilarations and fantasies, wiping the smile off her face. Madison’s eyes wrenched open, her head whipping up to exhale a big gust of displeasure without moving away from the ledge. She did not turn her face towards the voice; there was no doubt that it was someone—another bloke who had too much care for everything—who had come to meddle with her business just because they thought they could.

The voice came from a guy who was restlessly leaning among the shadows as if he was one of them. With a sole look, Madison already knew what stupidity he was about to do.

He was trying to stop her from jumping.

"Don’t,” he repeated, pushing his shoulder back from the wall then striding across to reach towards her. He walked slowly, hinting calm and steady strides, but there was a little bit of urgency in his steps, suggesting that he was not that as confident as he was showing her. He stopped a distance away, a sure sign that he was afraid and cautious. “Suicide's a sin, you know. You'd end up in hell either way."

She tilted her head at him, amused. i***t. For the second time that evening, she felt tickled by the amusing thing they called ‘humanity’. Madison felt rather entertained to the point she wanted to laugh out loud. Had humans been always this stupid? Look at this chap, she mused. He doesn’t understand what he’s about to do, nor does he know the consequences of what would happen if he tried to stop me.

"Y-you wouldn't want that, would you?" he asked her softly, as if talking someone out of the ledge. Because, to be frank, he was. He then extended a hand as if to help her off death. "Hell's forever, yet life's not. Let's not make a rash decision, yeah?"

This time, she couldn't help it. Madison laughed.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"You don't know me," she explained to him, tilting her feet back and forth to unnerve him with her casualness. "You wouldn't help me if you knew who I was."

His hand was still extended. He shrugged with a laid-back face like he was showing her that he didn’t not care whether she fell to her death or not, but sadly, the perspiration on his forehead betrayed him. It was clear as day that he wanted Madison to take his hand. "It doesn't matter who you are and whatnot. Come, I'll help you off and we could have coffee together or something."

Coffee. Madison giggled. Oh, how amusing this poor, poor fellow is. Unfortunately for you, coffee would solve anything. But it didn’t matter. Her irises were trained onto the white peck that was a car parked on the side of the street below her. Madison thought it would look lovely with splashes of red across its roof, paired with a lifeless body. Her fingers tingled with the anticipation of power, of Death.

"Do you not know who I am?" she asked him, her voice almost undetectable from the sudden gush of howling wind. Strangely, the breeze made Madison’s hair fly upward, as if it was coming from the ground below. It made her eyes seem bloodshot in color, like the fires of hell were burning from them.

Without even peering a look at the man behind her, Madison knew her eyes chilled him to the bone.

"Come." He extended his arm further at her. His voice was urgent, demanding. Bossy, as if he owned her, yet wavering, terrified of what was to come.

"No.” Madison took a deep breath, inhaling big draughts of cold air, refusing to look at him, yet grinning manically. He disgusted her; he had the nerve to stick his nose in people's business. Her business, of all people. She asked him one more time in a calm tone. "Do you not know who I am?"

She did not look at him, but she knew his eyes were wide, scared and filled with terror as he shook his head no. His hand almost reached hers. "Come on. Don't do this. Take my hand."

"You don't know who I am?” She smirked coyly. That's okay, I'll tell you, anyways."

"Take it." His voice, formerly deep and sudden, now shaking and tiny. "Don't be silly and take my hand."

Madison shook her head, fascinated with his demands. Her smile did not look malicious anymore when she peeked back to give him yet another coy grin. A tranquil yet pleased expression had replaced her once mischievous face. “Aren’t you a bossy little man,” she chuckled, and to his relief, Madison turned around to reach for his hand.

But when he tried to pull her away, Madison stayed put. Unyielding, rooted still on her place, an almost angelic smile across her cerise lips.

Suddenly, Madison pulled him to her. Panic exploded across his face, thinking he was about to get thrown off the building for merely trying to save a girl from jumping off, but Madison had no intentions of pushing him off the roof. She simply leaned in, mouth to his ear, whispering who she was in a cold and deadly whisper.

Then pushing him away to safety, Madison tipped herself towards the emptiness, falling to the ground below, a grin in her face.

There was nothing left for the guy to do but to stay seated onto the rooftop’s asphalt, gasping as sudden fire engulfed his lungs and spread through him.

Down below, on the street that Madison fell in, a single drop of blood dripped onto the roof of the white car. There was no body to be seen.

“I,” Madison had said to the guy, “am Sin.”

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