Page 135 of The Off-Limits Play

My bike swerves and fishtails when I take the corner too fast. I tense, regaining control and accelerating out of the corner.

The trees start to thin, and then I’m swerving into that open patch of land, the late-afternoon sky darkening before me, the open expanse just beyond the cliff approaching at speed.

I could just fly right off that thing, accelerate into the abyss.

It’d be the ultimate rush.

The last ride.

But instinct takes over and my hands grip the brakes. My bike hates me for it, the wheels spinning out on the gravel and tipping me sideways.

I jump off just before the bike hits the dirt and watch it skid and slide… slide… slide…

Fuck, no!

I start to run, but I’m too late.

“No!” I shout. “No, no, no!”

My precious Harley, my fucking pride and joy, hits the edge and keeps going, tumbling and crashing down to the rocks below.

The sound of crunching metal is fucking painful.

I chase after it, screeching to a stop on the edge and staring down at the crumpled wreck. Wrestling off my helmet, I take in the mangled heap and let out this ferocious cry. It doesn’t even sound human.

My father gave me that bike. He left it for me for when I was old enough to ride it.

I’ve looked after that thing like it was my own dog or something. My best friend.

“Shit!” I bellow, throwing my helmet down on top of the twisted metal.

It bounces off the rocks, tumbling and pinging right past the wreckage.

“You fucking idiot,” I berate myself. “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

My words get swallowed by the open space before me, sucked into the darkening sky.

Gazing back down at my mess of a bike… all the way down… I try to calculate the fall.

How quickly would I plummet?

The soles of my boot flirt with the edge, skimming the rugged rocks as I wonder what it’d feel like to just let go.

I could drop.

I could land next to my bike, and it’d be over.

No one would miss me.

And maybe this gnawing ache in my chest would stop, you know? If I just let it all end right now, it wouldn’t hurt anymore.

Right?

CHAPTER53

NYLAH

I’ve been lying in bed all day feeling sorry for myself.

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