Sitting on a couch near the window, Halo stared out at the city.

It stretched far and wide, measuring the horizon with its proud and tall buildings, defying the absolute darkness above it. With their own lights, they replaced the stars, a job they agreed to eagerly as they passionately sparkled.

A murky haze hovered just over this captivating sight, reeking of smoke, as they reminded the people that piled the streets and inhabited this place of its foulness, its dirty ways, dark alleys, and especially of its fearsome shadows within each of its corners, ready to capture any of those who dared to pass.

Frigid breezes blew by, bringing the sounds of the metropolis, of angry vehicles and hectic people, with the putrid scent of pollution, into her room.

Cringing, she looked away from the spectacle and to a nearby clock: 11:53. Three minutes before midnight.

Glancing at the bedside table, she noticed a piece of paper and a nearby pen. Should she write a note? She pressed her lips together, shook her head. No one will probably even read it.

She looked back out the window, and her gaze shifted below, five stories down of the apartment building. The streets were empty and silent. No one awake to see her. She was safe.

The pavement below was grimy, marked with the steps of dirty shoe soles, alongside the tracks of mysterious creatures, and littered with debris. It still managed to look inviting, a place fit for a useless being, such as she, to land.

Halo took another glance at the clock. Two more minutes.

Rising from her seat, she stood on the couch, before the window that was tall enough for her to fit. Tenderly, she traced its pane, caressing its tiny cracks, its irremovable dirt, wishing someone would do this to her – to ease her pain and the fractures within her. Such silly fantasies, she thought.

She closed her eyes, and the winds grew harsher, the city sounds louder, its stench stronger and more repulsive. She greedily breathed it all. Opening her eyes slightly, she stepped onto the windowpane, continuing to caress it. She looked down.

Sweat dampened her trembling limbs, despite the cool air. Heart thudding, loud and fast, in her chest. Grip on the windowpane tight. Eyes wide. Apparently, five stories down looked a lot higher when standing than sitting.

Biting her bottom lip, she stared at the darkness above. Goodness, how she hated herself – just when she was about to do it, this happened. She sighed once in annoyance, and another to calm herself down.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted the clock. One minute. She registered the old thing’s features, its aging hands, its browning white background, knowing this was the last time she’ll ever see the companion who has been there waiting with her and has accepted the lunacy she’s about to.

But then, she stared at it with begging eyes, as though telling it to stop her. It only stared back emotionlessly – perhaps even encouragingly. So much for a companion.

Halo shook her head, getting her thoughts in order. She has to stop clinging to life. Why in the world would she want to continue living? Nothing was going to happen to her. She wasn’t needed in this world. She has no purpose.

Returning to stare at the ground below her, she uneasily shifted her feet. She has to hurry. She needed to do it. Her guts were running out. Fear was conquering her, little by little, in a speed jaguars would be jealous of. It’s about to take her over; to make her turn around and face life once again.

Once her breathing was steady and she was relaxed, she closed her eyes and gradually extended a leg to the space before her. The wind was stronger than ever, as though it was trying to push her back into her room. But she fought it, and her fingers were relaxing in their grip on the windowpane –

Creak.
In a flash, she was back on the couch, as if nothing had occurred. Heart thundering. Lungs grasping for air in the stuffy room.

She looked at the door, and saw the youngest of all the siblings. It was her little sister, with tear marks at the edges of her sleepy hazel eyes, black curls jumping everywhere. Halo could see that she was wearing her favourite sleepwear, a pink sweater and a pair of comfy bottoms with white angels.

The toddler opened the door wide enough for the light from the hallway to get inside, illuminating the dim room. She rubbed her eyes to clear her vision, then looked up to her older sister and squeaked, “Hailly?”

Halo let a small, knowing smile take over her lips. “Did you have a bad dream again?” she asked, spreading her arms out for a hug.

As the toddler approached, nodding wildly, she began to cry again. Once she was within range, Halo took her in her arms, with a gentle squeeze. Her shirt damp with tears, the odour of saliva and sweat drifted onto her nostrils.

But the warmth and scent of her little sister; the wetness of her shirt and the tight grip on it; the soft wails of her cries made Halo feel contented; made her feel needed.

She picked her up and placed her on her lap. Stroked the toddler’s messy locks, untangling some knots in the process, as she hummed soothingly, whispering calming words. When she could only hear soft sniffs, she gently took the girl’s little chin, lifting it up to face her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The child’s eyes glistened as tears formed, already ready to spill. She dug her face in Halo’s shirt, clutching it more firmly. “Please, Hailly, don’t go,” she said, her voice slightly muffled. “Don’t go near that window.”

Halo frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Please, don’t go. Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall.”

Halo’s eyes widened. Did her little sister dream of what she was about to do? How was that possible –

“I love you, Hailly ... my Halo.”

Eyes larger than ever, Halo looked down at the girl in disbelief. She never did much with her little sister, just talked to her when the child needed some company. Listened to what she has to say, gave some advice or encouragement at times. It didn’t seem much of a big deal.

Looking at the begging girl now, it was a huge deal. She never knew such little things could affect someone so much.

“Did I do something wrong?” the toddler was saying, eyes wide in fear. Halo stared at back at them, and it hit her. Here was someone who wanted her to stay. It wasn't a life purpose, but maybe that was enough. For now.

“I promise,” the little girl said. “I won’t do it again – just don’t go–”

Halo hushed her, and held her closer, the little girl’s head on the crook of her neck. “That’ll never happen.” Her eyes watered, a delighted smile stretching on her lips. “I’ll always be here.”

“Promise?” her voice was soft. Sleep was catching up.

Salty tears freely fell from Halo’s eyes as she cradled her saviour. She gratefully kissed the little girl on her forehead. A calm breeze entered the room and embraced them, strangely without the stench and sounds of the city, as she said, “I promise, Angel.”