• I stood on the edge of the darkness. The place that became known as the “edge of the world” when the world had been thought to be flat. Darkness seemed to surround me from every angle. Behind me, in the mist. Above me, in the clouds. And below me, in the abyss filled with a great rage and fear.
    I stood perfectly still, toes overlapping the edge of existence, and I watched myself fall. I watched my own white form falling below me. I saw the long white gown which seemed to glow in the darkness. I looked upon the faceless body in rage, knowing that this other self was wanting me, the real me, to join her. I could hear her calling my name, beckoning, wishing me to escape as she had, only to be lost again in yet another version of hell.
    The white lady. Yes, that is what I shall be called. A smile spread upon my sallow face as I imagined it. This woman was indeed me, but my future self. She was different from me in every way, yet we were exactly the same. She knew I had come here to end my pain by ending my life, for she had done the same. I could feel the anger in her, or my, soul. I shall become this thing. And the strange thing was, I was not afraid.
    The dead tree behind me was now my only friend and it seemed to urge me on with its moans and groans against the strong wind which whipped my dress about my ankles in a frenzy. Sighing, I could only nod.
    I begged for life to let my pain put fear into the souls of all who hear of me. To allow my spirit to live on as the white lady who was still falling below me. I was, and am, the white lady.
    With that, I leaped a last, small glimmer of fear within my heart as I fell to my death.